


Reaching

by CupNoodles55



Series: As It All Comes Together [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Drama & Romance, Fluff and Angst, M/M, What actually happened during S2, eternal summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupNoodles55/pseuds/CupNoodles55
Summary: When his eyes met Makoto's, they stared down the distance between them, and his heart picked up with a vengeance ... Makoto was too far away, and his body wouldn't move. In fact, he refused to allow it. If he did, the water would disapprove. It would drag him down again. He opened his mouth and did his best to catch a breath ... "I can't reach you."
Relationships: Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Series: As It All Comes Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906147
Comments: 26
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is a story I started some years ago, and - thanks to COVID-19 - there is now a finished product.
> 
> This story covers the entirety of Free! Eternal Summer and basically is, what I am declaring, the backdrop behind the whole season. Or, what was going on between Haru and Makoto while other less important stuff was happening "on screen." All that to say, there will be a lot of scenes that directly line up with the show, and there will be a lot of scenes that were not a part of the series at all.
> 
> I own neither the characters nor the original plot that they come out of, but thanks for reading anyway. I will be updating every few days or so, but until then, enjoy the very first chapter!

He liked the quiet. It was one of the things he enjoyed the most about water. It had a way of drowning out the rest of the world with pressure. Not the kind that busyness, and noise, and responsibilities had. It was a comfortable pressure, the kind that makes you feel safe and tucked away securely in a friendly embrace. And yet it wasn't quite silent, because it had its own way of magnifying sounds that you needed a certain kind of silence to listen to … like a heartbeat.

He listened, allowing himself to feel the sound pulsing through the bathwater caressing him. Haruka's heartbeat, he had decided long ago, was both a fascinating and terrifying thing to listen to. Slow, intentional, always even, always steady, hardly ever disturbed. He was aware that heartbeats were essential to living, but it was almost too complicated a concept to think about — that there was a muscular organ sitting somewhere behind his ribcage in his chest functioning without any prompting from him, pushing blood through his veins, keeping the rest of his body operational through countless systems and circuits and … It was much simpler just to listen.

The sound reminded him of his mother, when he thought about it. It reminded him of long ago times when she would cuddle him so close to her chest that he'd have no choice but to rest his head on her bosom and listen to the heartbeat that rest just beneath. He wasn't much a fan of cuddling, but he'd always known she found some kind of joy in holding him, and being as it took too much effort to resist, he just simply allowed it. But again, that was long ago. He'd never really thought it significant enough to count his solitary days, but he found himself wondering now how long it had been since he'd last seen his parents.

His ears filled with the pull of his own breath cycling through his nose to meet his lungs. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the ceiling. The exhale escaped past his lips and he used his elbows to slide himself back up to a sitting position, shaking the water from his hair as he did so. He liked the way the droplets hit his bare shoulders.

His knees bent against the edges of the tub and he blinked down at the dolphin figurine bobbing in the ripples between his legs. His head tilted to the side. He flicked the nose of the dolphin, noticing then how wrinkled the tips of his fingers had become. The minutest of frowns tugged at his lips. He glanced toward the curtains veiling the doorway to the bathroom. They were completely undisturbed.

He never usually kept track of the time — it was a bother — and that was the point. But he was fairly certain that he'd been soaking much longer than was customary.

"He's late," he mumbled, to no one in particular. The dolphin continued rocking along its spine like a Drinking Bird, nodding an affirmative.

It was such a simple statement, and yet it caused a bit of a reaction in the complicated inner workings of Haruka's chest. Odd … Makoto wasn't one to be late. That was Haru's job. And then, questions. Was he sick? Were the twins clutching him around the ankles? Did he have class duties this morning and forget to relay this information to his best friend?

Haruka's body shivered as he leaned his wet back against the cold porcelain of the tub. His shoulders dropped. Should he wait? Or did it make more sense just to get out of the bath, finish getting ready, and check on Makoto on the way to school? This had to have happened before right?

He suddenly couldn't recall. And just as he began to remind himself what kind of motions were required for getting out of the bathtub on his own, a rush of footsteps pounded up the stairs. His shoulders rose and fell again with a quiet sigh.

"Ah!" Makoto's giant frame burst through the curtains and he flailed as he lost his balance, knocked the basket of Haru's clothes to the floor, tripped on a shirt, and caught himself on his knees with his grip against the rim of the tub just centimeters before busting his chin on the porcelain.

Haruka waited, watching Makoto's enflamed cheeks as he whined through a sigh, his exhale brushing coolly against Haru's arm.

"Sorry, Haru," he said, keeping his eyes closed. His forehead was wrinkled with exhaustion. "I overslept."

Hm … He'd prepared himself to respond with "Lay off the –chan," but it seemed this was unnecessary today. So he said nothing. Instead, he simply continued to wait until Makoto gathered his composure and got to his feet, before finally pulling Haruka to his.

Haru analyzed his best friend as he ran a towel through his hair. There were bags under Makoto's eyes. His hair was disheveled and his tie crooked. Haru thought of all the times Makoto had fussed over his uniform not being buttoned properly, and considered very briefly adjusting his friend's tie for him. But it didn't take long for that ponder to float off into the distance, especially when Makoto arched his back in a stretch and moaned as he raked a hand through his hair. He must have _just_ jumped out of bed.

Haru dried himself off and tossed the towel to the side, taking articles of clothing from Makoto's hand as he offered them over one at a time. The smaller teen continued to watch during the entirety of this exchange. Makoto was practically going through the motions in his sleep. It wasn't until Haru began pulling on his socks that Makoto snapped up as though jumping out of a dream.

"Sorry, Haru! We don't have time for mackerel this morning."

Haruka blinked. It was an annoyance, but he was more intrigued by Makoto's zombie walk out of the bathroom as he led the way downstairs than he was bothered by his empty stomach.

Makoto pulled on the front door and a chilly gust of air breezed its way past them through Haruka's damp hair. Makoto finally blinked brightly and shivered as though this was his first time noticing the weather.

"Ah, it's chilly today," he said. His green eyes turned on Haru and the sleepiness was replaced by a glimmer of that same maternal concern Haruka's mother used to look at him with. "Haru-chan, you should put on a jacket. Your hair's still wet."

It was less a suggestion than it sounded, as Makoto was already pulling Haruka's jacket off the coat hook by the door. Once Haru had slipped on his shoes — finally able to get out his mumbled dislike of the use of –chan — Makoto threw the jacket around his shoulders, ignoring the disapproval.

"Let's go. We're going to be late."

Haru scoffed, pulling his arms through his sleeves as they walked. "It's your fault. Didn't you set an alarm?"

"I didn't hear it go off," Makoto said, dismayed. "I was really tired this morning."

"What time did you go to sleep?"

A touch of rouge brushed the taller boy's cheeks and he coughed a nervous chuckle. "Ah. Umm … I'm not sure. It was pretty late."

"You should go to bed earlier," Haru said simply.

Makoto ran a hand through the back of his hair and smiled the way he only did when he was embarrassed. "Y-Yeah, I suppose huh? Must've been something I ate."

Haru looked away, deciding to let it be. He tugged on the collar of his jacket then stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

* * *

"Ohh, Mako-chan, you look awful."

Nagisa leaned forward on his knees and poked at Makoto's cheekbone, tugging his skin down to look into the red of his eyes.

"Don't put your dirty hands on people's faces," Rei chided over his bento box, chopsticks suspended.

"Are you sick?" Nagisa said. "You should eat a sweet roll!"

Nagisa grabbed a packaged sweet from his side and thrust it in Makoto's face. "Growing boys need their nutrients. Here! It'll make you feel better."

"You have no idea what's in that," Rei said with a wrinkled nose.

Makoto chuckled through pale cheeks and pushed the pastry away politely. "Thank you, Nagisa, but I'm okay. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

Nagisa gasped dramatically. "Shame on you, Mako-chan! Don't you know athletes need to rest? How are you supposed to be in tip top shape, if you don't get any sleep?"

"It's barely spring," Rei said. "We haven't had an official practice in months."

"That's no excuse," Nagisa said pointedly. He sat back and ripped open one of his sweet rolls. "What if we got invited to swim with Samezuka?" he stuffed the roll into his mouth and finished his statement through puffy cheeks. "He wouldn't be any kind of prepared."

Rei glared in disgust. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Sorry, Nagisa," Makoto said. "I'll get more sleep next time."

"That's better. Oh!" Nagisa exclaimed, suddenly jumping to his feet. He swallowed. "Speaking of Samezuka. We should begin preparations for Operation Cherry Pool!"

"Operation Cherry Pool?" Rei said quizzically. He still hadn't taken a bite of his lunch yet.

"That's what I decided to call it," Nagisa said, sticking his fists proudly on his hips. "Remember? We said we'd figure out a way to surprise Rin-chan by filling the pool with cherry blossoms like he always wanted."

"When did we talk about this?"

"Like a month ago. It was Haru-chan's idea. Right, Haru-chan? You remember."

Nagisa's bright eyes turned on Haru who just simply blinked and looked off to the side thoughtfully — mostly to avoid the cloying innocence in Nagisa's gaze.

Hm … He did say that didn't he?

A shift of feather-light tension waved a flag in Haru's peripheral vision. He glanced to Makoto next to him and just barely caught the odd crease on his brow before Makoto realized he was frowning while Haru was looking. His eyes shifted and he forced a smile.

"Ah, yes," Makoto said. "I remember that. We wanted to open the pool a little early and trick him into coming over."

"Shouldn't we wait for Gou-san before we start making plans?" Rei said.

Nagisa huffed. "It's not my fault she decided to eat with that other girl today."

"She's just trying to make more friends this year. Hanging around a group of boys all the time is compromising to her social life. She needs girl time."

"How do you know she needs girl time?"

"Because Gou-san's a girl, and girls need girl time," Rei argued. "You don't even need theory to know that."

"Well what do you know about girl time, Rei-chan, if you're so smart?"

Rei dropped his chin and massaged his fingers into his forehead. "A woman's business is beyond the knowledge of man."

Makoto chuckled. "You sound like Amakata-sensei."

Nagisa poked out his chest. "I thought you said you don't need theory to know a woman's business."

"I said you don't need theory to know girls need girl time. And anyway that wasn't theory." He pushed up his glasses with a finger, raising his chin again. "Men shouldn't nose into the ways of women, it's too complicated, especially at this age. I'm choosing to wait to study that topic until after high school."

"I think that's wise of you, Rei," Makoto said, leaning back against the wall.

Haruka took note of the movement and waited for the tension in Makoto's shoulders to dissipate. It didn't.

"Alright, fine," Nagisa said, taking a seat again. He folded his legs in and held his feet together. "Operation Cherry Pool is on hold until Gou-chan returns. Mako-chan, tell us what you know about girls."

Makoto, who had just lifted his barley tea to take a sip, choked. Dribbles of liquid spilled into his lap and down his wrist. He wiped his chin with a bright red face, looking to Nagisa with wide eyes after shaking his hand dry. "I don't know anything about girls!"

Nagisa pouted. "You must know something. You have a little sister don't you?"

"I thought you have three," Rei said. "And they're all older. Why don't you tell us what _you_ know about girls?"

"Now, now, Rei-chan," Nagisa said, patting the air. "You can't expect me to tell you all their secrets can you?"

Rei crossed his arms. "I very well can."

"Well, anyway, that's not the point. You ought to learn about them now, Rei-chan, or else you'll never get yourself a girlfriend."

Rei stared in silence with one solitary blink before he burst into laughter. He pushed his glasses up with a dignified huff. "I'm not interested in having a girlfriend."

Nagisa brightened and shoved his face nosily into Rei's space, forcing him to lean away. "Really? Why? Is it because you're already in love with someone?" he said, eyes twinkling with delight.

Rei wrinkled his nose and pushed Nagisa's face away with a finger. "No. Love is too messy. It's not beautiful."

"Ah, Rei-chan, you're no fun. And that's not true at all. I think love is wonderful. It's probably the most beautiful thing in the world. Everyone should experience it at least once," he said, cocking his head with his eyes toward the sky, grinning madly. "Hey, Mako-chan, what kind of person do you think you'll be with?"

Nagisa turned his eyes to Makoto whose already-red face flushed to a deep shade of pink that crawled up to his ears. He stiffened even more.

"W-Why are you asking _me_?"

"Rei-chan isn't convinced that love is beautiful. And we already know Haru-chan is smitten with a certain waterfall —"

"That doesn't count!" Rei exclaimed.

Nagisa shushed him over his shoulder. "You shouldn't judge who others choose to love, Rei-chan."

Rei scoffed. "I think you mean _what_."

Nagisa waved him off and looked back to Makoto with a wide smile. "Come on, Mako-chan. Don't be shy."

Haru watched the side of his best friend's face as he sputtered over himself incoherently, becoming so flustered he looked as though he might faint. Haru thought this a dramatic response — not surprising necessarily as much as it was just interesting. He'd never really put much thought to what kind of person Makoto would "be with." He supposed he just always assumed that Makoto would never leave his side. It wasn't that Haruka would be distraught without him there, nor had he ever really asked for Makoto to be there. It was just that Makoto tended to follow Haru's every step, and if Haru was dragging his feet, Makoto would either wait patiently or kindly usher him forward. Haru wasn't sure he could imagine another person being a part of that, especially not a girl.

Haruka found himself frowning and decided to save his friend from further embarrassment. "Nagisa," he said, catching the little one's attention. "What kind of person do you want to be with?"

Nagisa lit up like a flare and threw himself at Rei, forcing the violet-eyed teen to jerk his bento box above his head to avoid losing his lunch, which, he even still had yet to take a bite of. Nagisa beamed upside down at Rei's wrinkled nose, his blonde head in the other's lap.

"I've suddenly decided my life's purpose is to make Rei-chan fall in love with me."

Rei's cheeks became rosy, but he rolled his eyes, once again adjusting his glasses. "Very funny."

Nagisa flipped over on his hands and knees and leaned in again, his nose only inches from Rei's. And his smile never lost its fervor. "Love is no joke, Rei-chan. You ought to sleep with one eye open," he whispered.

Rei's cheek twitched nervously.

"If I can convince a man who can't swim to join a brand new swim team, there's no telling what I'll get you into."

Rei stared back as Nagisa held his gaze. It took an intensely prolonged moment, but Haru saw the smallest pinch come to the corner of Rei's mouth. "You're nerve-wracking sometimes, you know that?" His brow finally furrowed with cool disdain and he turned his nose away from Nagisa. "And you have no sense of personal boundaries."

"Well, of course not. Who needs those?"

"Everyone!"

Haru turned his gaze away from their bickering with disinterest. He glanced back at Makoto, more just to make sure he'd gone back to his normal color.

Makoto was watching the back and forth between Rei and Nagisa, the tops of his ears still pink, and though at first glance he seemed thoroughly interested in the exchange, there also seemed to be something behind his gaze that was very far off, as though his mind had wandered to an internal struggle. Haru left his gaze there, brow furrowing with each passing moment that Makoto remained lost in his thoughts.

A considerable number of heartbeats had gone by before he blinked himself out of it and looked to Haru as though suddenly aware of the weight of his gaze. Haruka didn't even pretend that he hadn't been watching, and Makoto's expression revealed a heavy discomfort with that. His green eyes shifted and the moment went unacknowledged as he looked away.


	2. Chapter 2

After lunch, Haru kept a close eye on Makoto.

He watched him doze off several times during their lessons, pinching his elbow to wake him back up whenever his head began to drop. He watched him shift and squirm in his seat whenever he wasn't falling asleep, squinting at the teacher with all his might as though trying to force himself to concentrate. And he watched the blood flush to Makoto's cheeks every time he turned to look in Haru's direction and realized he was being watched. Though, it didn't take him long to stop looking back after a while.

Nagisa found them once the bell rang to dismiss them at the end of the day, and insisted that they grab Rei and Gou and check on the state of the pool to get an idea of how long it would take to get it ready for the swimming season, but, more specifically, for Operation Cherry Pool. The blonde was thoroughly excited, which was no surprise. Nagisa, Haru was convinced, possessed a burning ball of relentless energy somewhere in his chest that had the power to move tides. When he wanted to do something, it happened. When he wanted other people to do it with him, they did. This was sometimes exasperating for Haru, but he'd realized long long ago that Nagisa was such an unstoppable force that he would be the only being in existence that Haru would ever allow to coerce him into almost anything.

But even with as much enthusiasm as Nagisa was putting out in regards to Operation Cherry Pool — which he'd given the motto "the best kind of prize is a sur-prise!" — it did not escape Haru's notice that Makoto, though he smiled and laughed and seemed to effortlessly go along with everything the others were planning, became increasingly tense. No one else noticed, but they weren't meant to.

Makoto had a habit of being so selfless that it was hard to pick up on things that made him uncomfortable. He never wanted anyone to know, so he smiled, and he smiled some more. Because he was also very honest, he would tell the truth if he was asked an invasive question, but only in the event that he was sure his response wouldn't effect the well-being of anyone else around him. But of course, he'd have to raise a red flag for anyone to start asking him questions, and his flags were hard to catch.

However, being as they'd been friends for the majority of their lives, Haru had long since learned how to catch these flags when they were raised, and he was one of the few, if not the only one, who could. He'd gotten so good at it in fact, that it had become second nature to him. He couldn't always discern why Makoto might have an issue with something, but he definitely knew when he did … and this was one of those times.

So when it was time to head home for the night, he gave Makoto a moment to process his thoughts in silence after they broke off from the rest of the crew, remaining intentionally aloof to the distance that grew between them as Makoto strode ahead of him with his head down as he stared at the ground. It wasn't until they'd reached the beach that Haru picked up his pace to fall in step directly beside his friend.

"Makoto."

He didn't expect him to respond on the first call. It was one of the ways he'd learned to diagnose exactly how bothered Makoto was over any given issue. If he responded on the first call, that usually meant he'd be fine within a few hours and the issue was of little to no concern. If he responded on the second call, whatever was bothering him probably had something to do with a personal matter, something he had to overcome or figure out about himself. Those usually didn't have much to do with Haru. Though, if he wasn't careful, they could put a bit of a rift between them. When it took three or more times to call Makoto out of his reverie, then there was something wrong wrong. Something that quite possibly had everything to do with their relationship specifically. Sometimes, if he was lucky, it was just a family thing. Most of the time, though, that wasn't the case.

So, when Haru found himself calling Makoto's name for the fourth time, he became uneasy.

"Makoto."

"Hm?" Makoto made the noise, but it took him another second to finally blink himself back into the present moment and meet Haruka's gaze. "Sorry, Haru, were you saying something?"

And he was so perfectly sweet about it. Damn this guy.

"What's the matter with you?" Haru said, electing to toss all formalities out the window. He was never one to beat around the bush anyway.

Makoto blinked. The blush in his cheeks wasn't as vivid this time, but it made an appearance all the same. He flashed his teeth as he ruffled the back of his hair. "What do you mean, Haru-chan?"

Haru sighed to himself. You'd think Makoto would know better than that. All these years they'd spent reading each other like a book, and yet he was such a creature of habit that feigning ignorance just vomited out of him as his best defense in cornered situations.

"You haven't been yourself today."

Makoto's smile twitched. He forced out a half-assed chuckle. "I'm just tired. I told you, I —"

"That's not it," Haru said brazenly. "I know what you're like when you're just tired. Something's bothering you."

This time Makoto's face paled, and his frown was so immediate that Haru almost felt bad for being so straight-forward.

He was quiet for a while, Makoto, dropping his gaze back to the path. Haru watched the corners of his lips tremble as though he was in some deep conflict with himself, stuck halfway between being drawn to answer the question but also forcing himself to refrain. He tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves, jaw flexing with strain.

It took a long time, but he finally parted his lips and very quietly said, "I'd rather not talk about it."

Haru frowned. "Is this what kept you up last night?"

Makoto stopped walking even before Haru could finish his question. Haru stopped too, taking note of the quiver in Makoto's shoulders.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said again. Then he lifted his face with a smile that was both pleading and somehow threateningly defensive. "Haru … Okay?"

A shiver of discomfort quaked down Haruka's spine, but he resigned not the let it show. This was very unlike Makoto, so much so that Haru had no response. He simply stared back uncertainly and nodded his head once.

Makoto's smile stretched unnaturally, and he started walking again. Haru followed. He didn't ask anymore questions. 

* * *

"What about sunflowers? They're so big and bright and happy-looking." Nagisa leaned against his broom with his cheek against the back of his hands, watching Rei with a suggestive smile. "And they ought to remind you of me."

Rei, who was doing his utmost to appear as though he wasn't listening, continued pushing his own broom across the bottom of the empty pool without pause, and without meeting Nagisa's gaze. "I don't like sunflowers," he said huffily. "And I don't need anything that reminds me of you … You never leave me alone."

Nagisa's grin only widened. "You don't seem particularly perturbed by that, Rei-chan."

Rei snorted a laugh. "That's a big word for you, Nagisa-kun."

"Particularly?"

"Perturbed … Are you going to stand there staring at me all day, or are you going to help? You were the one who insisted on doing this now."

"Geez," Gou sighed, shaking her head to herself. She was sitting on the edge of the pool, one leg crossed over the other. She'd been spending her time going over last season's final training regimen and making adjustments based on scrutinizing the state of everyone's muscles as they cleaned out the bottom of the pool.

She'd paused to watch Nagisa and Rei, who were focused on the center line, and now went back to shuffling through her papers. "How long have they been acting like this?" she said to Makoto and Haru, who were sweeping out the edge closest to her.

"A few weeks now," Makoto said, pausing to brush the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. "Nagisa declared he would get Rei to fall in love with him."

Gou burst into laughter, rocking back on her tailbone as she tossed a sheet over her shoulder. "Well, I look forward to seeing the results of his success."

Makoto shrugged and bent forward to continue sweeping. "I don't know. Rei's putting up a decent fight."

"Yes, but Makoto-senpai, it's Nagisa."

Makoto chuckled through his nose, eyes steady on the pile of dirt he and Haru were creating. "That's true."

"What do you think, Haruka-senpai?" Gou said, glancing in his direction.

Haru continued sweeping with disinterest. "About what?"

"Do you think Nagisa will get Rei to fall in love with him?"

Haru lifted his shoulders imperceptibly. "He got him to join the swim club."

"That's also true. They do make a good team."

"We all make a good team," Haru mumbled.

"Yes, but you know what I mean. They work well together as a pair … Almost as well as you and Makoto."

Haru would have thought nothing of the statement if Makoto's sweeping hadn't abruptly stopped at the mention of it. He continued his own back and forth motion, as though he hadn't noticed, but glanced past his bangs up at Makoto who seemed to be sharing a silent exchange with Gou. Makoto's eyes were wider than normal, his cheeks ever so traitorous of his embarrassment. Gou simply smiled at him knowingly, then dropped her gaze back to her papers.

Haru was careful to look away before Makoto did. It was with very hesitant influence that Makoto's broom was set to work again. He said nothing else, and because of this, the energy around him became suddenly fragile. Haru didn't address it, and neither did Gou. But, in the back of his mind, Haru was bothered by this. He thought briefly of chastising Gou for teasing Makoto with such a denoting smile, but decided it was both too much effort and would only embarrass Makoto even more.

_Why_ it would embarrass Makoto, he was hesitant to put a finger on. Not necessarily because he didn't know, but more because he was afraid that he did. In his own mind, it was better not to address the implications of Makoto's reaction. If he did, he feared he might get a similar response to the one he'd been given weeks ago. The response that came with a smile so disturbing he'd tossed and turned all that night because of it.

"Oi, Haru-chan! Mako-chan! How are you two doing over there!" Nagisa screamed, his voice echoing through the cement pit.

Haru didn't acknowledge him. Makoto straightened up again to answer for them both. "We're about done. What about you?"

Nagisa plopped down with an exaggerated huff, brushing a hand through his curls. "We're almost done too," he said, flashing his teeth. "Man, cleaning the pool is no joke. I feel like I've never worked so hard in my life!"

Rei, who was still sweeping, threw a glower at the back of Nagisa's head. "You've hardly done anything."

Nagisa's smile only widened. He held his feet together and rocked back. "That's a matter of perspective, Rei-chan. How are we going to get the cherry blossoms in the pool once we fill it?"

"They fall in by themselves," Haru said. He thought it was under his breath, but apparently Nagisa had super sonic ears.

"But it has to be _full_ of them, Haru-chan. That would take way too long, and there'd be all kinds of other things floating around."

"We'll just have to collect them off the ground," Makoto said. "We'll put them in buckets and wait to dump them in the pool until just before Rin arrives."

Haru peeked back up at Makoto again. He had gone back to sweeping, his gaze locked on what he was doing. Nothing else about his expression revealed any discomfort in him, but Haru could swear he felt it.

"It should all be done on the same day," Rei said, pushing the last of the dirt into the pile he and Nagisa had created — mostly that he had created. He stretched out his back and leaned against his broom, not unlike the way Nagisa had. "If we collect the blossoms too early they'll start to bruise and turn brown."

"Good point, Rei-chan. Then we'll have to get here really early on a weekend. Gou-chan, do you think you'll be able to get Rin-chan to come?"

Gou puckered her lips thoughtfully. "Hmm … I think it would be better if Haruka-senpai does it."

"Oooh, good idea! Haru —"

"Too much effort."

"Awww," Nagisa whined. "Haru-chaaaan, please? Everyone knows Rin-chan can't resist your charm."

Rei finally released a chuckle. "It drives him crazy."

"Literally!" Nagisa said, beaming. "He'll definitely come if you ask him to."

Haru was well past the point of being able to pretend he was still sweeping, so he didn't bother anymore. Instead, he found his gaze drifting very intentionally toward Makoto, who had suddenly become interested in Gou's pile of papers. He had one in his hand, "reading" over it as though he really cared what it said. His back was to the conversation, his shoulders ever-so gently tensed — invisible to the untrained eye.

"Nagisa's right."

Haru nearly jumped, not having expected Makoto to speak up, much less to address him directly. But he knew this was because Makoto could probably feel his eyes on his back, could feel him searching him for something. Makoto always filled the gaps that Haru left open.

"You should do it." He turned his green-eyed gaze on Haruka with a soft smile.

He was good at this, really he was, and Haru wondered how much pretending Makoto had had to do over the years to be so convincing. But that smile turned his stomach. It was so off.

"Do you want me to?" Haru challenged, keeping Makoto's gaze. As far as he was concerned, they were the only two standing in the pool right now, because this wordless conversation had nothing to do with the rest of them.

Makoto's smile dropped a fraction of a degree, but that was all. "Of course," he said. "We have to get him here somehow. And how _could_ he resist your charm, Haru-chan?"

For some reason, this felt like an insult, as though Makoto was ever-so subtly resisting Haru's silent attempt to break his smile. Haruka didn't much appreciate it.

"Fine," he said, still refusing to look away from his friend whose smile became taut as Nagisa whooped with victory in the background.

* * *

It really didn't take much to convince Rin. All Haru had to do was approach him after the city tournament, tell him to come, and remain covert about the reason. Gou and Nagisa giggled about charm all the way back to Iwatobi, and Haru distinctly ignored them. Rin was in a good mood, and after years of tension between them, they were finally on speaking terms again. They were friends. That's why Rin agreed. There was nothing more to it than that. And yet the very aura Makoto put off as he also disregarded Gou and Nagisa's insinuations suggested otherwise. And Haruka found himself minutely irritated by this. He didn't address it, and he wouldn't just yet, but he wished Makoto wouldn't stress himself out over something so simple.

Operation Cherry Pool didn't exactly go as planned anyway.

Haru stared as the untimely spring rain lapped at the surface of their carefully crafted cherry pool. He was mildly disappointed, but more so because he knew he'd get an earful for ignoring the rain and trying to swim anyway. It wasn't like rain made a difference, he'd be wet either way.

Makoto and Rin stood with him under the pergola against the rail, Makoto on his left, Rin on his right. This would have been of little significance to him if he couldn't feel the energy coming off of Makoto's shoulder. And yet Makoto was perfectly pleasant when Rin asked them about their plans after graduation. Haruka chose to override his thoughts of Makoto's manner of conduct in favor of the even more unappealing question about life after high school.

"I … haven't thought about it," Makoto said gently.

Haru continued to stare ahead in silence.

He hadn't thought about it either, and he didn't particularly want to. Neither had he felt rushed at all, and he wondered if that was because he knew Makoto hadn't put much thought into it. In Haru's perfect world, nothing about the future was different from what it was right now. He would swim because he wanted to. He would eat mackerel because it was his favorite. He might not be at school with Nagisa and Rei anymore, but surely he'd see them every once in a while. The same would be true of Rin and Gou. And Makoto would be there, like always, to get him out of the bath in the morning.

_In a perfect world_ , that's what he saw. Getting into the logistics of how all that would work required jumping into a very uncertain universe, and he didn't like that. Because questions. What would he do for a living? Would he need to continue his schooling? What pool would he swim in? How often would he get to see Rin if he was off swimming laps around the world?

"You haven't thought about it?" Rin said, mostly in a mumble, as though he disapproved.

"Why are you so interested in knowing?" Haru said, still gazing out upon the rain.

Rin blinked, his nose twitching as though he hadn't expected the question. "Can't a guy be curious, Haru?"

"You're asking as though you need to know."

"Well no, but it'd be _nice_ to know if I can look forward to swimming with you after high school, don't you think?"

Haru glanced to his right. Rin had his brow raised, staring back at him expectantly. Haru looked away again without a response.

Rin scoffed. "You're impossible."

"Haru just doesn't like feeling pressured to answer questions, Rin," Makoto said. "He doesn't mean anything by it. I'm sure he'll let you know when he figures it out."

Makoto's tone was still perfectly pleasant, and Haru was grateful to get out of Rin's pestering gaze. If there was anything he could confidently say he knew about the future, it was that Makoto would be there to answer questions when he didn't feel like it.

Rin huffed, blowing his bangs out of his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Fine. But actually put some thought into it, will you?" He titled his chin to look intentionally over Haru's head. "Both of you."

Makoto smiled. "Of course."

Rin sighed and was quiet for a while, before he scratched at the back of his head and pulled in a breath. "Thanks, guys," he said quietly. "We didn't get to swim, but it was a nice gesture."

He tossed a wave to the pool before shoving his hand back in his pocket.

"Yeah," Makoto said. There was still a smile on his face, but his tone was sad. Rin would mistake it for disappointment about the rain, but Haru knew better. "It was our pleasure, Rin."

Rin hiccuped a chuckle, mostly to himself, then turned away and left the security of the pergola. "I'm gonna head out. I'll see you guys later."

"See you," Makoto said to his back. Haru said nothing.

They watched him walk away, observed as he was stopped by Rei, Nagisa, and Gou who apologized for the rain. Rin ruffled Nagisa's hair until the disappointment left his face, and informed him that it was a nice surprise anyway. He promised they'd get another chance to swim in cherry blossoms and hinted that maybe he'd surprise them next time. Then after insisting that Gou let him know when she got home safely, he finally disappeared.

"Haru-chan! Mako-chan!" Nagisa shouted, waving an arm at them. "Let's go home."

He, Rei, and Gou turned to retreat into the club room. Haru kept his eyes on them and caught Makoto's sleeve when he tried to leave.

"Makoto," he said, watching the door close.

"Yes, Haru?"

Haruka turned his eyes on his best friend with a straight frown. "Did something happen between you and Rin?"

Makoto flinched, as though the question had up and poked him in the nose. "What makes you think that?"

"You were tense about surprising him — like you didn't want to be a part of it. And you act differently when he's around now."

Quite predictably, a touch of rouge began to stain Makoto's cheeks. "Do I?" he said with an airy laugh.

"Makoto," Haru said, his tone severe. He wanted none of Makoto's ignorance charade right now.

"What?" Makoto said, smile evaporating. The tone that fell out of his mouth betrayed him with a tinge of desperation. "No, Haruka, nothing happened between me and Rin."

Haru tightened his gaze, and Makoto blushed even harder.

"Haru-chan," he said quietly.

Haru shook his head. Makoto had already let it slip, just in calling him by his given name. He didn't know what exactly this revealed, but he knew he was on the right track with his suspicions at least.

"You're a terrible liar."

Makoto's shoulders sank. He looked out at the rain as he sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. He let his hand rest in a sandy-brown tangle of locks, his elbow stretched over his head. A tide of passive defeat cleared out his expression and chased away the blood in his cheeks.

"Haru-chan," he said tenderly, gazing into something Haru couldn't see. "Rin and I have not had any encounters that you are unaware of."

"But you have a problem with him."

Makoto's jaw locked. "No," he said. "Not one bit."

Haru frowned. Makoto's green eyes found him again with an intensely controlled gentleness. "Satisfied?" said the brunet.

"No."

Makoto smiled. "We should go." He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and draped it over Haru's head. "The others are waiting on us."

He walked out from under the pergola, ducking his head against the rain, and trotted down the steps without another word, trusting that Haru would follow his lead.

Haruka frowned to himself. He loved letting the rain soak his hair. Makoto knew that. Haru knew that, and yet he clutched the edges of Makoto's jacket and held it up over his head to keep himself dry as he walked out into the shower and descended the steps behind his friend.

No … He wasn't satisfied at all.


	3. Chapter 3

They didn't acknowledge it for a while, the thing that Makoto wasn't admitting. And the more they buried it in the sand, the easier it became to act like everything was normal, and the harder it became to ignore. It was so unsatisfactory that Haru still preferred allowing the irritating questions about his future to take precedence over Makoto's odd behavior. And the questions came from all directions, including Makoto himself. In fact, Makoto brought it up more than anyone, and Haru began to suspect that he wished Haru to worry more about the future instead of investigating his best friend's secret. This was even more irritating, and really didn't help Makoto's case at all.

Haru and Makoto didn't keep secrets from each other. They just didn't. Haru didn't know when it happened, but he was sure they had made some unspoken pact long ago to tell each other everything, to share everything, to know what was going on in each other's lives at all times. Why would Makoto keep secrets? It wasn't like anything Makoto had to say would change their friendship. In fact, Haruka was 100% certain that there was nothing Makoto could say that would be more irritating than the mere fact that he just wasn't telling.

But he shoved his frustration of this away, because it was too exhausting to think about, and the more he made a fuss about it, the more Makoto's smile strained in that uncomfortable way. Most days, he didn't feel like being bothered by it, so he just chose not to be. Makoto was less defensive on those days anyway. So Haru let it be, as long as it wasn't an active bother to him.

And this lasted for a while … all the way up until Makoto announced that he would be swimming the 200m freestyle race at the preliminary tournament.

So he knew something was up with Makoto. He knew he was holding back information. And he knew Makoto had been in and out of acting like himself for several weeks now. But if Haru was expecting him to do anything out of the ordinary as a result, it wasn't this. He didn't understand why Makoto's maybe-or-not tiff with Rin had anything to do with Makoto entering the same race as Haru, or what that would accomplish for him.

So he just stared with the smallest of frowns, while Makoto chatted lightly with the others about this race.

"Tachibana-kun," Amakata-sensei said from beneath her parasol. "Why did you choose the 200m freestyle instead of the 100?"

Makoto's smile was as sweet as the blue ices they liked to share. "Because I'd have absolutely no chance against Haru in the 100m."

Hm … So Makoto wanted to race Haru specifically. Why? There was no reason for them to race. It was unnecessary. Makoto swam backstroke, that's what he was good at. Haru swam free, that's what he was good at. They didn't belong in lanes next to each other. They weren't rivals. They were friends. They were supposed to be swimming together, not against one another.

"But, Makoto-senpai, you've worked really hard and spent more time training every day in preparation for the freestyle race, haven't you?"

Haru's gaze tightened on Makoto's face as he turned his smile on Rei. "I still feel like it isn't enough to compete with Haru."

Haruka got the distinct feeling, once again, that this was an insult. What was Makoto doing? Was he angry? Was he taking a stab at Haru for being so intrusive? Did he want to prove something to Haru? Was he looking to prove something to himself?

Haru didn't understand, and he was irritated, yet again. He didn't like it when Makoto did things that were unlike Makoto. Makoto was supposed to stay the same. Makoto was always supposed to be who Makoto was in all of his sweet, selfless, smiling, sandy-haired glory. They'd already discussed this, way back in middle school in fact. And he shuddered at those memories every time — when Makoto was trying so hard to change, just because he felt like he had to, and he pulled away from Haru, because … Haruka still didn't understand. He just knew he'd hated that span of time. The span of time in which Makoto had experienced an identity crisis.

He didn't think it was as simple as Makoto feeling like he needed to change this time. But whatever the reason for Makoto's shift in behavior, it was too unlike him to be comfortable.

But he didn't say anything, not just yet, not during this conversation, because, once again, he felt as though this was purely a Haruka and Makoto thing. This was between them and no one else, except maybe Rin, for whatever reason that was. Haru was still hesitating to put his finger on that, almost as though he could see the answer somewhere in the depths of his mind, but it was too blurry to make out, and he didn't really want to dive in himself to investigate it either. And anyway, this new addition to the-odd-things-Makoto's-been-doing threw him off. Rin wasn't in the 200m race. This was very much intended to be a head-to-head competition with his best friend.

"Haru-chan!"

Haru blinked as Nagisa threw an arm around him.

"What will you do if Mako-chan beats you?" he asked, smile wide and close.

Haru glanced at Nagisa with indifference, though this was one of the few times he wished someone other than Makoto could read his silence.

"I don't care about winning," he said.

Nagisa sighed dreamily, tilting his head to the side with his cheek on Haru's shoulder. "You never change, Haru-chan."

Haru wasn't sure why, but this touched a nerve in him. Without changing his demeanor, he pulled himself away from Nagisa and walked through the others, mumbling on his way that he was hungry. This distracted Nagisa, as he hoped it would, with a long pondering of what he thought his parents might be making for dinner, which turned into an exploit of trying to convince Rei to come to his house to eat with him. This back and forth lasted the entirety of the time the boys spent changing back into their uniforms, and followed them out of the locker room all the way up until it was time for Rei and Nagisa to split off from Makoto and Haru.

"Nagisa-kun, please, I just want to go home and get a good night's sleep."

"I don't understand why you can't do that _after_ you have dinner at my place."

"Because you'll try to keep me there all night and you know it."

"I'm offended by how little you trust me, Rei-chan. Bye, Mako-chan! Bye, Haru-chan! See you tomorrow!"

Nagisa waved wildly at them as they turned in different directions, Rei still attempting to argue in the blonde's ear as he kept in step with him. Makoto returned Nagisa's wave. Haru walked on without pause.

Once they had cleared the distance in which they could still hear the echoes of Nagisa's jolly insistence, there was silence. This wasn't all that abnormal, but generally the silence Haru was used to on their walks home was light and comfortable rather than heavy with the objective of avoiding something they were both aware of — like it was now. Haru hated it. He hated all of this. He needed to be comfortable around Makoto, that's how their relationship worked. But he knew if he spoke first Makoto would deny whatever was there, deny the imbalance, deny the discomfort, deny the fact that something was making him unhappy and he couldn't bring himself to admit it. And anyway … Haru was too annoyed to speak first.

So he waited. No words were exchanged as they passed through town. Nothing was said when they gravitated closer to each other to let the stream of commuters leaving from work part around them down the sidewalk. No questions were asked when they wordlessly stopped for a popsicle. Makoto simply pulled the change from his pocket to pay, turned to walk away again, and broke the frozen treat apart, handing one half to Haru like always. They ate in silence. They threw their trash away in silence. They stepped onto the walk along the beach in silence. And it wasn't until then, halfway down the strip of deserted sand, that Makoto finally stopped walking.

Haru kept his sigh to himself and stopped too, just a few feet ahead. He turned, and they stared at each other. A breeze passed between them, easing Haru's irritation with the moist scent of the sea. And he realized only in that moment, that the majority of their more serious discussions on walks home from school took place in this exact spot. He was sure that was on purpose, and he didn't mind that at all. The ocean brought him comfort and Makoto knew that, which was why he'd chosen to stop only here, only now.

"Hey, Haru," he said quietly, the exchange in their gazes speaking more volumes than their voices ever would. "I have a request."

Haru lifted his chin just so, giving Makoto his permission to continue. He couldn't hear the pattern of his friend's breathing over the break of the waves on the shore, but he could see the density of it just from the way Makoto's chest rose and fell.

"In the 200m freestyle tomorrow, I want you to race me for real."

Finally.

"Why?" he said. And that why contained many more grievances than he was sure Makoto would address at the moment. Haruka squared his shoulders. "Why did you suddenly decide to compete in freestyle? Do you want to battle me that badly?"

Why have you been acting like this? What does this have to do with Rin? Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Were all the questions he held off on asking just at this moment. And he got the distinct feeling that Makoto was aware of that.

The brunet was quiet for a moment, processing his answer very carefully, glancing out at the blue of the ocean for inspiration.

"When this summer's tournaments end, we third years will have to retire from the club. So before that happens, I want to have a real race with you."

Haru frowned. He wasn't satisfied with that answer. It only brought more questions to mind. "Why do you swim?" he asked, his voice more direct than he might've meant it to be if he cared right now.

Makoto was taken aback by this. But he recovered from his surprise with the gentlest of smiles, this one tinged with sadness and maybe something like resentment. His eyes were drawn to the sand this time, and his voice was barely louder than the wind when he spoke.

"Because I want to swim with you." There was a long pause after this statement, in which Haru could sense him wanting to leave it there before he realized this was too intimate of a declaration, so he added, "… and with all my friends."

Yet another why presented itself to Haru in the next pause, but he sat on it too long and Makoto met his eyes again, this time with a severity that brought a tingling heat to the back of Haru's neck. Makoto wasn't smiling anymore.

"But … Tomorrow, I'll swim to beat you."

Haru's breath got stuck in his chest, and he felt his expression expose the astonishment he felt from being spoken to with such audacity by Makoto of all people. He was used to this from someone like Rin or, as of late, Sousuke. And there were odd-ball people who popped up every now and then to threaten him, because they were intimidated by his swimming. Makoto was the last person he would've expected to hear anything like this from. In fact, he wouldn't have put Makoto on that list at all.

A knot rose to his throat and he wrinkled his nose to express just how much he disliked Makoto addressing him in such a way.

"Makoto," he said. "What is wrong with you?"

Makoto blinked. He began to shake his head as though he didn't know what Haru was referring to. "I don't —"

"Stop," Haru said, curling his fists. "You haven't been acting like yourself and you know it. Now you're challenging me to a race, and I don't understand."

Makoto's shoulders dropped with a sigh Haru didn't hear. "Haru-chan —"

"Don't call me –chan. Makoto, please just tell me what's wrong."

To all of Haru's irritation, Makoto smiled, again with that same sad smile that held back so many words. "Haru, there's nothing wrong," he said gently. "It's just a race."

"I don't think it is," Haru said, a little more desperately than he meant to. "There's something going on that you're not telling me. We don't keep secrets, Makoto. We never have."

The calm in Makoto's demeanor didn't change, in fact, it only solidified. His chest rose with a breath and he exhaled as he walked forward, closing the space between them. His hand reached for Haru's and squeezed it comfortingly. His green eyes met Haru's directly, his head titled forward to accommodate their height difference. That lamenting smile was now a ghost of itself staining Makoto's cheeks.

"Haru-chan," he said quietly, his eyes shining with earnest. "Do this for me, please, will you? Just this once."

Haru's brow furrowed. It did not escape him that Makoto was refusing to answer his question. And yet, this time he didn't deny that there was nothing going on either, which made the smaller teen even more confused. His fingers twitched in Makoto's grasp. His hand was always so warm, so soft and sure. Haru was more familiar with the hold of Makoto's hand than he was with anything else Makoto ever offered him, maybe with the one exception of his smile. Makoto taking his hand was safe. Makoto reaching out to him was something he knew. It was comfortable. Haru's frown stretched.

"Will you go back to acting like yourself if I do?" he said, his blue eyes searching the whole of Makoto's expression.

The sadness in Makoto's smile deepened. "Of course, Haru-chan," he said warmly. "Whatever you need."

This turned Haru's stomach, especially when Makoto released his hand, placed a palm on his head and walked away, allowing his fingers to fall through the back of Haru's hair on the way. "Let's go. It's getting late."

A surge of something like disappointment washed over him, but he was tired, so he said nothing more about it and followed Makoto in silence the rest of the way home.

His feet were dragging by the time he started his way up the steps to his house after breaking off from his best friend. Every time he lifted his foot, he felt like there was a weight in his heel threatening to pull him back down the stairs. But he made it, slowly, and immediately went into the bathroom to draw himself a bath. He stripped everything off this time. He just wanted to feel the stifling heat of the water pulling the stress out of his bones.

So he lay on his back at the bottom of the tub for as long as his lungs would allow him, and listened to his heartbeat. The thoughts of his mother didn't come this time, instead his mind was plagued with memories of him and Makoto, of the culmination of every event and conversation that brought them to this moment here in which Makoto was unhappy and he would not tell Haru about it. He thought about them as children on the playground, remembered Makoto refusing to join the swim club without him, all because he thought it would be pointless if Haru wasn't there. He thought of Makoto handing Haru the dolphin figurine and taking a clownfish for himself on their first day, even though Haru knew Makoto didn't want the clownfish. He thought of the very first time they shared a popsicle — _a_ popsicle, which had been exclusively _Makoto's_ popsicle given to him by his friend the fisherman as a reward for helping him carry crates onto his boat. Makoto hadn't even touched the wrapper until he ran all the way to Haru's house to knock on his door and offer to share. He thought of Makoto helping him pull out his first tooth, and frantically stopping him in the middle of the sidewalk to tie his shoe so he wouldn't trip, and apologizing on Haru's behalf when he was rude to their teachers, and every other moment of their life in which Makoto spoke up for him and defended Haru's stubborn silence and aloof attitude, just so Haru wouldn't have to be anyone but himself.

And then he couldn't breathe anymore, and he broke the surface of his bathwater with a gasp and leaned back against the tub, catching his breath. He didn't shake the water from his hair this time. He just allowed it to slide down his neck and face, blinking it out of his eyes. His head dipped as his knees parted to allow a canal for the dolphin figurine to ride the ripples he'd created through his legs. He frowned at it as it bobbed in the clearing above his lap.

"Whatever you need," he found himself mumbling out loud as he recalled the words and they sent a shiver down his spine.

Was that the mantra that Makoto lived by? _Of course, Haru-chan. Whatever you need._ Whatever you need, Haru-chan. Of course.

Haru's brow furrowed, eyes still steady on the dolphin. "You can't promise me whatever I need if it makes you unhappy, stupid."

What did this mean then? Would he have to allow Makoto to change? Would he have to tell Makoto to do whatever makes him happy? Would he have to _force_ Makoto to do whatever makes him happy? Why _was_ he unhappy? Haru knew by now that he himself had something to do with this, and that's why Makoto wasn't telling, because Makoto didn't want to disturb Haru's peace, because Makoto thought Haru needed him to stuff his feelings down and brush them to the side, because that's what he'd always done.

Haru's stomach turned again, and he sank down until the water was up to his nose.

If Makoto was acting oddly because he was having to stuff his feelings down, then it most definitely wasn't worth the trouble, and most definitely not what Haru wanted. And still, _what_ did any of this have to do with Rin? And how was Haru supposed to convince Makoto to drop the charade if he kept insisting there wasn't one?

The back of Haru's neck tingled as he thought of Makoto's fingers sliding through his hair. A ghostly cold brought goosebumps to his skin and he submerged himself underwater again.


	4. Chapter 4

The atmosphere at prelims the next day was a bit too jovial for the mood he was in. Nagisa, of course, wasn't making it any better. He skipped around and bounced on his toes down every hallway, and even when they made it up to the bleachers, he refused to sit down. His excitement, to Haru at least, was nauseating. Didn't he know there was nothing to be excited about? Haru had to race his best friend today … That wasn't exciting at all.

"Nagisa!"

Rei clutched at Nagisa's shirt and yanked him back, as he had jumped up on a rung of the rail and leaned so far over that he might've tumbled twenty feet down onto the concrete.

"I just want to see if my parents are here yet," Nagisa said with not a care in the world.

"Are they supposed to be coming?" Makoto said, lifting his chin to scan the spectators trickling in.

Nagisa nodded. "Yep. They promised. They said since I've been working so hard on getting my grades up, they'd come and watch me swim."

"Well, I'm sure they'll show up," Rei said, pushing up his glasses. "You don't have to hang off the rail to find them."

He was still gripping the back of Nagisa's shirt, as though afraid if he let him go, Nagisa would take off into the wilderness like a toddler. This only made the smaller boy beam.

"Aw, did I scare you, Rei-chan?"

"No." Rei turned his nose up and released his clutch in favor of crossing his arms. "You're just reckless, that's all. Sometimes I feel like we need to get you a leash."

Nagisa chuckled. "I'm touched you care so much."

Haru sighed to himself and tuned the rest of the conversation out. His eyes scanned the the stands across from them where Samezuka took up more than half a section of the bleachers. They were too far away to distinctly pick out familiar faces, especially since they were a sea of black in their matching uniforms, but he knew Rin was in the mix somewhere, captaining his team like a real leader or something. Haru still found it mildly amusing, Rin as a captain.

"Can you spot him?"

Haru blinked and looked to Makoto who was leaning against the rail next to him, also scanning the stands where Samezuka sat. Haru frowned, he knew Makoto was just asking to make friendly conversation.

"No," he said, attempting to sound as though he didn't care, which … was an interesting thing to put actual thought to. Normally it just came out that way.

At any rate, he turned his gaze to the pool instead, and gripped the rail tightly. Makoto didn't say anything else, and so they both just simply watched the mill of swimmers and event workers below until Nagisa's race started.

Haru wanted to act normal, and he tried not to grimace with annoyance at the volume of Coach Sasabe screaming through the megaphone as he led them in cheering Nagisa on. But he could feel himself getting antsy, which was not a regular emotion for him. He normally didn't put much thought or fuss into most things, which allowed him to remain generally unconcerned. He didn't like this … anxiety. And trying to cheer Nagisa on with everyone else for some reason made it worse. But he quickly figured out that it was easier just to pay more attention to Rei, who he noticed was distinctly louder than the rest of them, waving his arms wildly for Nagisa to swimmer faster.

Rei was an interesting character, Haruka decided. Very sure of himself, but also somehow just as unsure. Intelligently mature, but very much with a youthful disposition similar to Nagisa's. He liked to shovel disdain over his tone to cover up his affections for Nagisa, but clearly he was quite passionate about his blonde-headed little friend. Haru remembered Rei rushing to his house in a panic when he'd learned that Nagisa had run away from home. He'd practically busted down the front door with tears in his eyes. That was the first time Haru could say he'd been surprised by Rei. He wondered really just how effective Nagisa's new purpose in life was proving itself to be. But then this led to recalling the look on Makoto's face as he'd watched Nagisa and Rei's interaction on the roof during lunch that day Nagisa declared he would convince Rei to fall in love with him. And the blur of confusion regarding Makoto's behavior shimmered with ripples of transparency and he had to force himself to stop thinking about it before the answer became too clear.

He just barely caught the end of the race, and stared out as Nagisa leapt up in joy at his time and slapped a disgruntled Ai on the back in the lane next to him.

"Next up is backstroke, Makoto!" screamed Coach Sasabe, turning the megaphone on them. Haru winced at the ringing it left in his ear. "Keep this momentum going and win it!"

Makoto stood at attention and shouted an affirmative.

Haru glanced up at him out of the corner of his eye, a frown on his lips. Makoto had been very much normal up to this point, and now his shoulders tightened with competitiveness. This was also normal. It happened just before every race he participated in. He was ready to swim, that was all. But Haru found himself suddenly unable to shake the growing temptation to question everything about Makoto lately.

He watched him leave, and then dropped his gaze to the tunnel where Makoto would walk out. It took several minutes — in which time Nagisa rejoined them — but Haruka did not move his stare until Makoto's wide, bare shoulders emerged from the shadows. Gou was analyzing her program, briefing the rest of them on who else was competing in this heat. Haru didn't care.

He watched Makoto give a few last minute tugs to his arms. Somehow, from this vantage point, as far up as they were in the stands, Makoto seemed that much taller than everyone else he stood next to. Something about the way he carried himself in this moment seemed to stretch him out, made his legs longer than Haru remembered, made his aura ever more distinct.

The line-up of swimmers dropped into the pool upon instruction and readied themselves by pulling up on the bars below the starting block, shoulders hunched at the ready, legs prepared to spring. Haru stared at the curve of Makoto's back. He'd always admired how incredibly still Makoto was in the seconds before kicking off a race. It was as though he stopped breathing in those moments as an energy of focus wound up all of his muscles, coiling him into a ball. The heartbeats would go by and, even from where he stood, Haruka could feel that eager pulse. Then the whistle sounded, and Makoto sprang back in a perfect arc, his body extending to its full length. He disappeared for just a moment, under the rippling reflection of the water, then resurfaced nearly halfway across the pool, arms reaching behind him to cut through the stream and propel him forward.

He was fast. Considerably faster than most. Makoto, as gentle a creature as he was, swam with a lot of power, and with a control that Haru only saw in him when he was in the water. This was the only place he voluntarily fought to be first, the only place where he disregarded anyone else's wants and desires and focused on his own. And Haruka liked watching that flourish in him. He liked the way power looked on Makoto, liked the determination in his strokes.

He frowned. Makoto swam backstroke. It was what he was good at. It was what he led their team with in relays, and then Haru would always finish with freestyle. In the same lane, on the same team. Partners … not rivals.

"Why are you making me do this?" he whispered under his breath, eyeing the torpedo that was his best friend.

The race was over somehow quicker than it started. Makoto came first in his heat and Haru was not surprised. Everyone beside him cheered, catching Makoto's ear. He turned in their direction and waved with a modest smile.

Haru shook his head to himself. Something in him wanted to be happy. Makoto had won his race, he had made it past prelims, something none except Haru had been able to accomplish last year. He seemed proud of himself now, though of course he wouldn't openly praise his own abilities the way Nagisa did. He would simply smile with that never-ending grin, and maybe his cheeks were blushing with humility. It wasn't visible from here, but Haru could imagine it. What was easy to spot was the golden sheen of his wet hair catching the sunlight and the way his muscles moved with his breath, glittering from the clingy drops of pool water. What Haru knew would be the highlight of the day was over as soon as Makoto lifted himself out of the pool.

Another tingle of heat shuddered down Haru's spine. He turned his gaze away.

Rei was going on about showing off his flawless butterfly form. His race was up next. And where Rei was standing amongst them in one moment, Makoto suddenly took his place in the next, and Rei replaced Makoto's presence on the concrete below.

"Congratulations, Tachibana-kun!" said Amakata-sensei.

"Very well done," Coach Sasabe agreed, patting Makoto's back as he passed. "This season's starting off nice and strong."

"Thank you," Makoto said.

"We still have Rei-kun to get through," Gou said, clutching her clipboard to her chest as she gazed down nervously at Rei. "He's really grown, but I hope he does alright."

It was then that Rei stepped up onto the starting block and realized no one from Samezuka would be swimming against him in this heat. Makoto chuckled as Rei very loudly lamented the fallen grace of their perfectly balanced rivalry with Samezuka.

"I think he'll be fine," Makoto said quietly.

Haru watched a drop of water slide down the back of his neck from his hair.

Nagisa sucked in a large breath after jumping up on the rail and threw a bellow down at their violet-eyed teammate. "You've got this, Rei-chaaan!"

Rei stiffened and placed his goggles over his eyes with dignity. "Of course I do!" he shouted back.

The Starter called the swimmers to take their marks and Rei leaned forward with the rest, gripping the edge of the starting block, his form, of course, already perfect. Those few crucial heartbeats went by. Though, because his connection with Rei was not the same, Haru didn't feel it. The whistle sounded, and Rei took a beautiful nose-dive into the water.

He certainly had come a long way, there was no denying that. His form had always been perfect, but Haru distinctly remembered how atrocious Rei's diving had once been, if it could really even be called diving. It'd been more like a series of sloppy belly-flops than anything, where he had simply dropped gracelessly into the water and then immediately sank to the bottom of the pool. The water had not liked Rei then, Haru was still convinced. And he was sure that had been because Rei had tried to attack it like an object, as though he had control over what it did. But … clearly he and the water had formed a pact, and it now accepted his presence affectionately, even allowing him the push he needed to swim at the head of the pack.

He didn't pull too far away from the competition the way Makoto had, but he was clearly faster. And his race too ended seemingly much quicker than it had started, this time throwing their whole team in a whir of celebration. Amakata-sensei and Gou both squealed and hugged each other. Makoto was laughing jovially, Coach Sasabe screaming with pride through the megaphone, and Nagisa bounced on the spot, his arms tossed up over his head until he jumped back on the rail.

"Rei-chaaan!" he screamed, his face turning red. "I'm so proud of you!"

Rei stood in the water with his back to the pool, his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Oh dear," Amakata-sensei said with a happy sigh. "He's crying."

"They're tears of joy," Nagisa said in a warbled voice, wiping his own cheeks.

"Aw, Hazuki-kun." Amakata-sensei laughed and ruffled Nagisa's hair. She pulled him close with an arm around his head and patted the top of his curls.

"Rei-chan!" Nagisa screamed again. "Get up here!"

It was hard to hear, but Haru thought he heard a snuffled "Okay!" from below.

Rei shakily pulled himself out of the pool and lumbered toward the tunnel, wiping at his eyes. By the time he made it up to them, he seemed okay. But then Nagisa threw himself at him with an aggressive hug, and the tears started all over again. Everyone patted Rei on the back in congratulations once Nagisa released him from the hug and then continued to hold his hand and shake his arm up and down with a prideful smile.

It was a big accomplishment for them as a team, Haruka thought, to have their weakest swimmer finally claim a victory for himself. But his excitement was stifled by the realization that freestyle was the only thing left on the docket for the day. His race with Makoto was up next.

He'd have rather gone straight into it, if he was going to be honest with himself. He would've liked to have just gotten it over with. But the next segment of races wouldn't take place until after lunch.

Gou and Amakata-sensei had prepared quite an appealing spread of light provisions to snack on, but Haruka found himself incredibly uninterested — even more so than normal. He really didn't eat much of anything, and he might have expected Makoto to insist that he do so, but it seemed Makoto was very aware of the reason why Haru hardly touched his food, and decided to leave him alone about it this time. And Haru was glad, because something might've tried to push its way out of his stomach when Coach Sasabe started talking about Haru and Makoto's race.

He just wanted this to be over.

And all too soon his wish was being granted as he and Makoto stood in the locker room, preparing themselves to walk out to the pool. They had automatically chosen lockers directly next to each other, but the door of Haru's locker created a barrier between them that they both seemed to use as a shield to hide their discomfort behind. Even Makoto had gone quiet and picked up an energy of tension, though Haru quickly figured out why.

"Haru …" Makoto said quietly, just as Haru pulled his shirt over his head.

He paused, staring at the rim of his locker as he waited for Makoto to continue.

"About what I said yesterday …"

He didn't finish the sentence, but Haru understood the implications. He knew Makoto had been reading him all day, just as Haru had been shooting consistent glances at Makoto. His best friend was afraid Haru wouldn't honor his request.

He wondered if Makoto thought that because he knew Haru was aware he was a much stronger swimmer and might try to back down to make it easy for him. He had to admit, it had crossed his mind, but not for the reasons Makoto might've thought. He had gotten a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach, remembering the last time a friend of his had very seriously challenged him to a race. He and Rin had been much younger then, and it wasn't as though Rin never challenged him thereafter. It was just that, from that moment forward, a vicious rivalry had formed between the two of them. And while they considered themselves friends now, it had taken a grueling journey of arguing, and soul-searching, and remembering all kinds of pain to get to this point. They'd made it out of a cycle of never-ending competition by the skin of their teeth, and now swimming against one another had become a way for them to push each other to get better. But they were still rivals, in a way. And that was something Haru had never wanted to experience with Makoto, especially because the moment that had turned Haru and Rin against each other had ended in Rin crying on his knees and angrily declaring that he was never going to swim again.

Even still it made something in him shudder. But … He thought of the sadness in Makoto's smile. He thought of the solemn "Whatever you need," and he knew he couldn't escape giving Makoto what he was asking for. So he closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I know," he said.

Makoto took this response with more trust than Haru could ever emulate. And as they finished getting ready and lined up with the rest of the swimmers to walk out of the tunnel, he suddenly felt like a despicable person.

Was it his own fault that they were walking out to do this now? Could he have prevented it somehow? Something in him told him he could have, because he knew he'd spent the majority of their relationship allowing Makoto to give up a lot of things on his behalf.

He stared at his best friend as they emerged into the sunlight and Makoto's hair fluttered in the breeze. Interestingly enough, there was no tension in his shoulders just now, and Haru wondered if he should be worried about that. But then he decided it made some kind of sense. Makoto was approaching this race differently than he did all others, and Haru knew that, because he was doing the same. It wasn't that either of them had lost their sense of determination, but that they were drawing it from a different source in this moment. Where Haru normally raced to feel the exhilarating rush of his partnership with the water at peak capacity, he was now about to race for the sake of a long-lasting friendship, with the hopes that it would not be somehow ruined afterward.

Haru frowned. He wished he could trust as easily as Makoto. He wished he had the same kind of fervor and confidence in their relationship. He wished stepping up on the starting block next to his best friend didn't ignite so much fear in him.

He kept his gaze averted from Makoto, afraid that if he took one last glance his resolve to put everything he had into this race would weaken. He adjusted his goggles over his eyes, tinting the world in a glassy blue hue, and took his mark when the Starter called.

He stilled himself, summoning the same power Makoto always did in this weightless moment of silence. He pulled a long breath in through his nose, and the moment the whistle sounded, his feet left the block.

The water embraced him effortlessly, prepared for his presence and his need of its aid. The slipstream curled around his bare skin and made him weightless, supporting him as he began stroking. Makoto was already way ahead of him. He could see it when he turned his head to the side for air. It wasn't surprising. Makoto swam with a lot of power. But Haru knew that stamina would not help him in this particular race. The 200m was about pacing, not speed, and it seemed Makoto's determination to win had already pushed that concern out of his mind.

Haru didn't let it phase him. He swam the way he knew he should, just as he would any other 200m. Makoto was already passing him before he made it to the other end and pushed off the wall. Haruka took his time. It wasn't until he kicked off the starting end and marked his halfway point of the race that he finally picked up his speed and swam with the same vigor he did in his 100m races.

This was the point in which all thinking usually silence itself, the point where he normally just swam. But he caught an echo of his own breathing when he turned his head for air again, and it directed his attention to his heartbeat. Normally, the rush of water in his ears as he and nine other swimmers stroked and kicked at its surface made everything hard to hear. But this time he was very aware of the muscle in his chest, of its abnormal pace, and arduous pumping. And it called him to Makoto, to the severity in his eyes as he declared his desire to win this race with an unspoken insistence that he could not do so without Haru's cooperation.

_Whatever you need_.

Haru felt his legs kick faster, his arms work double-time as he propelled himself forward and was this time only a second behind Makoto in kicking off the opposite wall. The force of the kick put them nearly head-to-head, and in the next second, Haru had overtaken him.

Something — some loyal affection toward his best friend that he didn't often pay attention to — grieved at leaving Makoto behind, but he pressed forward without pause. This is a race, he reminded himself. This is a race. And the finish line was in front of him before he got the chance to forget that.

His palm slammed against the wall and he broke the surface with a gasp. His body took only a moment to tremble with exhaustion, the adrenaline wearing out rather quickly as he caught his breath. He didn't bother looking up at the board for his time.

Makoto hit the wall, water caving in on itself with a splash as he did. Haruka kept his gaze down as he pulled the cap and goggles from his head. He listened to Makoto's labored breathing, waiting for him to straighten up and say something. But it was taking much longer than he hoped.

Chest still trying to catch a breath, Haru glanced to the side and watched intensely as Makoto's shoulders heaved, his body desperate for air. He was leaning with his head against the wall, the back of his hand supporting his forehead. Water droplets slid down his rolling muscles and dripped from his hair. Haru stared, now a little uneased. He wanted Makoto to look up, to say something. Was he upset that he lost? Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Haru had held up his end of the deal, but he was suddenly hit with a crushing panic that maybe he shouldn't have. Should he have allowed Makoto to win? Would that have made him feel better? He could have pretended to lose steam at the last second. He could have pulled back just enough, come in second just behind Makoto.

Makoto's breathing began to calm down. His shoulders fell almost as though with defeat. A drop of water slid down the side of his face, and Haru's gut immediately clenched in fear. He couldn't tell if it was just the wet of Makoto's hair, or if it was a tear. Was he crying? He was upset. Haru knew it. Something squeezed his heart and it was painful. He didn't want Makoto to give up swimming. He didn't want Makoto to be his rival. He didn't want this to turn out the same way it had with Rin.

"Makoto …"

He started to reach out, determined to fix it, but Makoto suddenly came to life and threw his head back with the purest smile Haru had seen in weeks.

"I lost!"

Haru stared, his eyes wide. His heart, he could swear, had just stopped beating entirely. A spray of water glittered around Makoto as his sudden movement disturbed its peace. He allowed it to splash his cheeks, and pulled in a full peaceful breath, exhaling as he calmed and looked back toward the water, his grin now soft but satisfied. He took his time facing Haru slowly.

"You really are the best in the water," he said affectionately. His green eyes met Haru's and his smile stretched. "Haru-chan."

The thing that had been squeezing the life out of Haruka's heart released its grip, and he didn't bother covering up the relief in his exhale. He closed his eyes, willing his pulse to beat at a normal pace.

"What are you talking about," he mumbled. It was the only thing he could think to say, something he knew would distract Makoto and force things to go back to normal. He didn't want Makoto to know how tense his own muscles still were, as though they were too in shock to relax. But also, the image of Makoto tossing his head back, of water splashing up around him and catching the sunlight, had suddenly unearthed something in Haru that he wasn't sure he'd ever noticed before. And he didn't want Makoto to know that either.

But Makoto was already pulling himself out of the pool, so Haru forced himself to calm down and put on an expression of indifference. The brunet, once he was on solid ground, took a step to the right and reached down with an offered hand. Haruka took it, and allowed Makoto to pull him out of the pool.

Makoto didn't release his hand immediately. Haru didn't mind.

"I'm going to go join the others," Makoto said. His smile was finally the warm genuine smile that Haru was used to. "I'll be cheering you on in your next race."

Haru nodded, and Makoto squeezed his hand tenderly. "I'll see you after you win."

Makoto's fingers finally slid away from his, leaving a peculiar tingle on Haru's fingertips. He watched his friend walk away, almost numb to the chill of the breeze brushing past his wet skin. And yet he shivered … just not from the cold.


	5. Chapter 5

Makoto huffed out a sigh, plopping down on the edge of his bed as he fit a t-shirt over his head and then ruffled his freshly shampooed hair.

"For some reason, I always forget how exhausting tournaments are."

Haru hummed a response, staring up at the ceiling from the floor with his arms spread out. He'd lay there the whole while Makoto had been in the shower, not particularly bothered that Ren and Ran had successfully convinced him to stay the night after Makoto's parents had taken them out for lunch following the relay. They hadn't won, but Haru wasn't too bothered. They'd get to race Samezuka again at regionals. According to the delicate back and forth of their consistent rivalry, Haruka had the distinct feeling they wouldn't lose next time.

"Mom's still getting Ren and Ran ready for school. Do you want to take a shower?"

Haru rolled over and pushed himself up off the floor. Makoto read this as the affirmative it was and flopped back on his bed. Haru shuffled through Makoto's drawers — something he'd grown accustomed to over the collection of nights he'd spent at the Tachibana house. He hardly ever brought his own clothes over to sleep in, and had come to favor a specific one of Makoto's t-shirts that of course, like all the others, was way too big for him. But he pulled it out anyway and found an old pair of shorts that he knew Makoto kept specifically for him.

He spent longer in the shower than he meant to, and learned along the way that he was still a bit bothered. And it had something to do with that blurry answer to his questions that he was still refusing to look too closely at. He had the feeling he could figure it out relatively quickly if he paid enough attention, but he wasn't sure how willing he was to know still. Makoto had been acting normal since their race, except for the one moment on their way home that same night when Makoto had stopped him with another weird look while asking him more questions about his future and what he was going to do if he was scouted.

He didn't want to think about that stuff, and he had a feeling it was going to get worse from here, but Makoto's expression … Makoto's expression was puzzling. He could read in it that Makoto had a genuine concern for what he was going to do after high school, but Haru didn't know why he was so worried about it. Whatever they did wouldn't change anything. There was no point in fussing over it. And anyway, they still had a while to think about it. He'd thought Makoto had been questioning him about it before just to make him think about other things besides why Makoto was acting weird. But now he wondered how related the two were. And still, Rin's part in all of this completely escaped him. But he was insistent upon it being relevant. Not because he wanted it to be, but because he couldn't forget Makoto's reaction to him prying a little too deep.

It didn't make sense, and he wished he could sit in the library of Makoto's mind and simply be given the answers without having to discover them on his own or force himself to look into revelations he was unsure whether or not he should poke at.

Ren and Ran where in Makoto's room when he finally shuffled his way back. Makoto had donned his glasses and was staring intensely at his television, working patterns into the buttons on the controller in his hands. His brother and sister were standing on the bed behind him, draped over each one of his shoulders, also watching the screen intently … at least until Haru walked in.

"Oniisan!" they chorused, jumping off the bed to rush over to him and grab each one of his hands, pulling him further into the room.

"You have to help Nii-chan," Ran said, running to jump back on the bed.

"He sucks," Ren said.

"Hey!" Makoto exclaimed, head tilting as though wanting to address his little brother, but unwilling to take his eyes from the screen. "That's not nice at all."

"Well you keep dying. Oniisan's better at this game."

Makoto whined through his nose both at the comment and his perfectly timed death on the screen. He pulled on a dignified expression and held the controller out to his brother. "You play it then, if you think you know better."

"Ren's not good at it either," Ran said, latching herself to Makoto's back.

"Am too!" Ren argued.

"You just want Oniisan to play, so you can be on his team."

Ren poked his tongue out at his sister, and tugged on Haru's arm, guiding him to the edge of the bed next to Makoto where Haru sat. "Here." He handed Haru his own controller after unraveling it and plugging it into the console. "You can be on my team."

"Told you," Ran said.

"Well, we're gonna win," Ren said, fitting himself between Haru's arms on his lap. "Right, Oniisan?"

"Right," Haru said, joining the game and picking his usual character.

This was the exception to his normally cold response of not caring about winning in competitions, only for Ren's sake … or Ran's, if she happened to claim him first. Though, she had a very affectionate attachment to Makoto, so she usually chose to be on his "team" without a fuss. The word _team_ in this instance was also used very loosely. Ren and Ran often watched them play more than they participated themselves. But they were very enthusiastic supporters of their respective "teammates," and were often very vocal trash talkers. So much so, that Makoto often had to remind them that it was just a game and they shouldn't call each other mean names.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Haru," Makoto said gently, smiling as he kept his eyes on the screen. "I've been practicing."

Haru scoffed under his breath, but of course Makoto heard, and his smile only grew. "You've been practicing dying, apparently."

"That was just a warm-up."

"I'm sure it was."

They spent a good couple of hours on the game, pretty evenly back and forth between winning and losing. Makoto was actually better than Ren and Ran had been playing him up to be, but Haru, of course, wasn't phased by this.

Mrs. Tachibana came in at one point to offer them all popsicles, and it wasn't long after this that Ren and Ran began to doze off. Ren had long since turned himself around in Haru's lap, clinging to him with his legs wrapped around his waist and his forehead dropped on his shoulder. Haru had grown accustomed to this over the years, and though it got extremely warm after a while, it wasn't uncomfortable. Ren and/or Ran were always clinging to him when he was around. He'd never had to wonder what it would be like to have siblings, once they were born. They'd been calling him _O_ _niisan_ since they could talk. Oddly enough, he realized it had never bothered him, and in fact, he was quite fond of being a big brother … though he would never admit that out loud.

Makoto grunted in protest when he lost again. Haru glanced over at him. He too still had the top end of his popsicle wrapper in his mouth, sucking up the syrup as it melted. Ran had slumped down in his lap, snoring lightly with her head against his chest. The reflection of the television on his glasses made his eyes hard to see, but Haru sensed the intensity in his focus as he prompted the game to begin another round.

There was something … endearing about this moment, and it was odd. Haru didn't know what to call it or why it was, but he was both exceptionally comfortable and also not at the same time. This was normal, playing video games with Makoto as his younger siblings fell asleep on them, and it was the kind of normal that Haru had been missing from Makoto. But he felt like the dissatisfaction was still there in his best friend somehow. Or at least, he couldn't imagine that simply beating him in a race had made it vanish as though it was nothing. And even if it had, Haru felt himself rightfully nosy. He still wanted to know what it was, even if it truly had gone. He still wondered about Makoto's somber mantra, and the real reason behind him wanting to race, and Rin, Rin, Rin.

"Ah ha!" Makoto exclaimed, ripping the popsicle from his mouth as Haru let him win the next round. He pointed a finger back at him. "Take that."

Haru stared at him blankly, and Makoto's face melted with disappointment. He frowned.

"You lost on purpose, didn't you?"'

Haru's nose twitched. He looked away, taking the popsicle from his mouth too. "I'm tired."

Makoto sighed and closed out the game, then picked Ran up as he stood. She whined sleepily and threw her arms around his neck, dropping her cheek on his shoulder. Haru tossed his controller and stood too, bearing Ren's full weight as he followed Makoto out of the room and down the hall.

"They're getting too big for this," Makoto said with a strained puff of air as he, to the best of his ability, gently lowered his sister onto her bed and threw a blanket over her.

Haru agreed. Ren seemed twice as heavy in his sleep, and it took an intense amount of core strength not to simply drop him on the bed opposite Ran's. And when he had lowered him successfully, Ren was reluctant to let go. He whined, his grip tightening around Haru's neck and pulling his head down against his chest. Haru exhaled, his neck trapped, back awkwardly bent over, balancing himself on his toes with his palms on either side of the bed so as not to fall on top of Ren. He was impressively strong for a ten-year-old child.

Haru tried pushing himself up, but to no avail. The more he resisted, the more Ren tightened his grip.

"Ren," Haru mumbled into his shirt. "You have to let go now."

"I don't wanna go to school," Ren responded in his sleep.

Haru sighed. "Makoto."

He heard Makoto giggling somewhere over his head and felt his hands pulling Ren's arms away from his neck. Haru ducked away and Makoto tucked Ren snuggly underneath his blanket. Haru stretched out his back with a grimace, then felt Makoto's hand ruffling the top of his hair. He froze and blinked at his best friend's smile through the shadows of the twins' room.

"They're definitely too big for this."

Haru's cheeks burned at the patronizing humor in Makoto's tone, and he was glad the lights were out. He took Makoto's wrist and lifted his hand from his head.

"I'm not your little brother."

Makoto's smile stretched. "I know. Time for bed, Haru-chan."

Haru huffed through his nose and ignored Makoto's giggles as they left the twins' room and closed the door behind them. The responsible teen tugged on the collar of the other's shirt and directed him to the bathroom when he tried to go straight for Makoto's room. Haru sighed and accepted his toothbrush when it was held out to him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, brushing their teeth for the next couple of minutes, then finally went back to the bedroom.

Haru let Makoto clean up their trash and put the controllers away and took the liberty of dropping onto Makoto's bed and rolling up against the wall underneath the blankets, burying himself up to his cheeks. He stared through half-lidded eyes at the cream colored paint just inches from his nose until the lights went out and everything became a shadowy grey. He felt Makoto's weight join him on the bed, and once he had stilled, they both lay in complete silence, neither really trying to fall asleep yet, but also not interested in striking up a conversation as they normally would.

Haru wasn't sure how long this lasted, but he could feel a shift in the space between them. Where Makoto had been giggling and ruffling his hair a minute ago, he now donned a silence that was almost quite sullen, and Haru — though it did not surprise him — did not quite understand either. Makoto had said he would return to acting like himself if Haru agreed to race him, and he'd been keeping that promise, but Haru knew it had changed nothing about the way Makoto was feeling.

"Haru," Makoto said after a long silence.

"Hm."

Makoto's tone was heavy when he spoke. "I'm sorry I've been making you worry."

Haru frowned at the wall, then buried his head under the blanket and resurfaced facing Makoto, who also turned on his side and stared past his pillow, blinking sorrowful green eyes at Haru.

"I've been trying to make sense of some things, and I didn't want to bother you with them."

"What things?" Haru said.

Makoto frowned. He hesitated for a while, just staring into Haru's eyes as Haru stared back. He pressed his lips into a line, then said, "You asked me if I had a problem with Rin."

Haru shifted an inch closer out of anticipation. "And?"

Makoto's eyes dropped. "I'm jealous," he said quietly.

Haru's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"You're a very inexpressive person, Haru. I've never had a problem with it. That's just who you are. And I've learned your language by now. But … Rin is really good at motivating you and getting you to react to things. When you're around him, you act differently too. I just wondered …" Makoto paused, and Haru saw something cross his gaze that seemed to have an influence on the end of his thought. "If I could motivate you the way he does."

He lifted his gaze again and Haru could tell there was something he was still holding back, but he chose not to prod it in favor of addressing his statement.

"I don't want you to motivate me the way Rin does," he said matter-of-factly. "Rin is frustrating, and he's got a big head. You're nothing like him. I don't want to be your rival. I want to be your friend. We're teammates, that's how it should be."

Makoto grimaced as though in pain. It was small and it was quick, but Haru noticed it, and he didn't know what it was there for. But classic Makoto chose to smile over it of course and ignore the infectious spread of his grief.

"You're right," he said with an airy chuckle that sounded nothing like him at all. "Friend," he mumbled to himself, almost too softly for Haru to hear. Another ripple of a frown almost took his smile away, but he cleverly turned himself over with a yawn to cover it up.

"Time to get some sleep, Haru-chan," he sighed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. "We've got school in the morning."

Haru stared at Makoto's back as something slimy slid its way down into his stomach. He'd just hurt Makoto's feelings. Makoto's very body heat radiated that. The only problem was, it was escaping him exactly how and why Makoto's feelings had just been hurt. He replayed his words in his head, but he wasn't sure what bit of it could've been the most insulting to Makoto. He'd been trying to pay him some kind of compliment. Makoto really was nothing like Rin. He was much kinder, humble, comfortable, pleasant to be around. He knew that right? Rin was abrasive, and cocky, and irked Haru's nerves most times. He couldn't understand why Makoto would want to be like that.

"Makoto," he called softly.

"Yes, Haru," Makoto responded, in a very dutiful voice that made Haru frown.

"I want you to be you."

Makoto's shoulder sank. "I know."

Haru pursed his lips and pushed himself up on his elbow to hover over Makoto's shoulder, his chest at his back, peeking over to see Makoto's face. His green eyes were staring across the room, the life in them diminished. Haru's back teeth came together. How was this getting worse?

"Why don't you want to be you?"

Makoto glanced up at him from the corner of his eye. "I do, Haru. That's not quite it."

"Then what is?"

Makoto was quiet for a long while. He dropped his gaze again, staring this time in thought. And Haru could see that internal struggle again, the fight going on inside his mind where the truth wasn't being allowed to make it to his lips. He sat up suddenly and turned over, forcing Haru to back away. Makoto smiled and wordlessly encouraged him to lay back down by patting his pillow. Haru did so, frowning, as Makoto tucked him in much the same way he did his siblings.

"It's time for bed, Haru," he said solemnly. "We can talk about this another time."

"Makoto —"

Makoto's hand touched his cheek, his eyes gazing down at him with a loving and silent plea. "Go to sleep," he whispered.

They stared at each other for a long time, Makoto hovering over him as Haru gazed up with a creased brow. When Makoto was satisfied with Haru's silence, he finally slid his hand away and lay back down beside him, turning his back again, saying nothing more. It wasn't until then that Haru noticed his heart skip a flustered beat as his cheek tingled with the lingering heat of Makoto's hand.

He swallowed, turned himself over with defeat, and waited to fall asleep.

* * *

It felt as though he had only just started to doze off some time later, when he was gently called out of his sleep by a tug. His eyes opened blearily and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Makoto had rolled over in his sleep. His head had left his own pillow and was now occupying the very corner of Haru's, and Haru could feel the warmth of his forehead resting between his shoulder blades. It was Makoto's right hand tugging on the back of Haru's shirt that had caused him to wake.

Haru exhaled with a yawn and faced the wall again, leaving Makoto where he was. He didn't mind, and in truth this was a common occurrence when they slept so close to each other. Haru couldn't count the number of times he'd woken to find himself in Makoto's clutches. He'd never tried to free himself, and he'd long sense realized it was because he found the extra warmth quite pleasant. That remained true today. So he settled himself to comfortably receive the same sleep he'd been waiting to come to him before. And again, it took a while to get there.

He found himself mostly staring at the wall, listening to Makoto's breathing, very conscious of his closeness, and something began to bubble beneath his chest that he couldn't quite name. It wasn't anything bad, but there was a certain discomfort to it that wasn't so much associated with the fact that Makoto was pressed up against his back as it was more that there was something about how that made him feel that he wasn't addressing. He felt like he was missing something, that he'd allowed something to go over his head, and he couldn't stop thinking about how that was related to the pain in Makoto's eyes as he'd despondently repeated the word _friend_ as though something was wrong with that.

But that's what they were, were they not? Friends. They had always been friends. Makoto, in fact, was Haru's best friend, and the only best friend he'd ever had or even cared to keep. What was so sad about that? Haru couldn't imagine Makoto not wanting to be friends anymore, but those were certainly the vibes he'd gotten from that flash of a frown that had escaped Makoto.

It was something obvious, Haru felt, yet for the life of him he couldn't pin it down and he realized there was something in him that seemed to be resisting doing so. The same something that was afraid to prod at the blurry truth he knew was sitting just right there. He was welcome to look at it at any time, welcome to understand it if he really truly wanted to. And he thought he did, but apparently not all of him was on board with that.

And it was because … he didn't want anything to change. It was the same reason he hated being bombarded with all the questions of what he wanted to do after high school. He didn't, that was the answer. He didn't want to anything, because he wanted it all to stay the same. He wasn't crazy about high school, but it was a comfortable space to be in, everything was familiar. And not being a part of that anymore meant that he had an obligation to be an adult … whatever that was. He didn't feel qualified. He didn't feel ready. And Makoto was starting to jump on the train and question where that would put them, and if he continued doing that then their relationship would change. And then what? Haru was supposed to be confident that Makoto would always be there, but if Makoto kept looking at him like he was in pain then he would have to start questioning some things too.

Haru's heart skipped another beat and it startled him. He pressed his lips together and shifted, leaning his back closer to Makoto, who unconsciously responded by wrapping an arm around his waist.

Haru's muscles relaxed. He turned his cheek into his pillow with a sigh and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

The corner of his lips twitched. It was beginning to annoy him, the irritation, like an itch he couldn't reach.

Makoto wasn't here either.

He hadn't returned from the vending machine since he'd mentioned being thirsty after their last class. Haru had waited for him … and waited for him, and waited for him, but the rest of their classmates had passed him by one after the other, and he'd sat stubbornly in his seat until the boredom of having to wait made him lock his jaw. So he'd thrown his bag over his shoulder and left, deciding he would find Makoto himself. Maybe he'd gotten hung up in the hallway by another classmate. Maybe the vending machine closest to their classroom was out of order and he'd had to venture to the one downstairs.

But Haru had checked the machine around the corner, frowning at a freckle-faced girl who popped out a soda without any issue. For good measure, he had checked the vending machine downstairs, but had not found Makoto there either. He wasn't in the cafeteria, wasn't in the gym, wasn't talking to any of their teachers or stopped in the hallway by another classmate. So Haru had doubled back, thinking maybe Makoto had gone back for him and they'd simply missed each other. Haru had thought surely if that had happened, Makoto would wait around for a moment until he came back.

No.

He turned away from the empty classroom with the huff of a sigh and decided to head to the clubroom without him. He'd done it before. It wasn't like he didn't know his way, wasn't like he couldn't stand on his own two feet when Makoto wasn't walking next to him. Though … he did feel extraordinarily off-balance. But he could've just had a rock in his shoe.

It wasn't until he stepped across the threshold to the locker room within the club space that a shiver of impatience raced down his spine. Makoto wasn't here either. Just Rei and Nagisa, both in the midst of stripping out of their uniforms.

"Hey, Haru-chan!" Nagisa said with a bright smile, shaking his curls as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"I told you to stop doing that," Rei scrutinized, narrowing his eyes as Nagisa tossed his shirt carelessly to the floor. "You have buttons, do it properly." He swiped up Nagisa's shirt and scanned the front as though checking it was still in tact.

"But I don't look nearly as sexy undoing the buttons," Nagisa pouted, turning away from Haru who ventured to his favorite locker and dropped his bag at his feet.

Rei scoffed. "No one said you looked sexy either way."

"That's mean, Rei-chan," Nagisa said, though he didn't sound the least bit bothered. "I think you look sexy when you pull your shirt over your head."

Rei groaned through his teeth and shoved Nagisa's shirt at his bare chest to distract from the blush that rushed to his cheeks. "You're driving me insane."

"Fine," Nagisa huffed. "Next time I'll let you undo my buttons for me."

"Nagisa!"

The blonde giggled and jumped away when Rei snapped his tie at him.

"If you don't cut it out, I'm moving to a locker across the room."

"Tut tut, idle threats never got anyone anywhere, Rei-chan."

Rei heaved a giant sigh, and the exasperation behind it was questionable, almost as though it was forced. He started to undo his belt, then narrowed his eyes and snapped his gaze back to Nagisa who was leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed, watching with a provocative grin.

"Turn around," Rei ordered.

Nagisa's smile stretched, but he did as he was told and lazily so. "I already know what your body looks like, Rei-chan."

"Shut up," Rei huffed, changing quickly. "Sexual harassment isn't funny."

Nagisa's shoulder sagged, he turned his head just enough to show the corner of his smirk. "Again, you don't seem particularly perturbed to me, Ryūgazaki-kun."

This seemed to catch Rei off guard, freezing him on the spot as though hearing Nagisa call him by his formal name touched a nerve. The back of his neck flushed this time. It took him a second, but he shook it off with another huff of an exhale and removed his glasses. He left his locker without another comment and turned to make his way out to the pool. Though he walked rigidly, the way he kicked out his foot to swipe Nagisa's heel from underneath him was rather casual. Nagisa flailed, and caught himself with the lockers before he could land in a heap on the floor.

"Hey!"

Rei just barely tossed a smirk back over his shoulder.

As was to be expected, this only got Nagisa riled up, the smile he watched Rei walk away with was vicious and he quickly ditched the rest of his uniform and jumped into his jammers, leaving all of his stuff in a pile on the floor.

And during all of this, Haru had simply watched. He'd at first pretended to ignore their antics, as was per usual, but found that the tone of their banter had very quickly snagged his full attention. It was supposed to be a laugh — all in good fun — the way Nagisa treated Rei, and Rei knew that. Nagisa meant nothing by his pestering, and in fact, it was the most endearing way he knew how to show affection. He had that kind of magic. And though Rei scoffed and scolded and huffed as he looked away and pretended he wasn't effected, there was a soft spot somewhere in him that Nagisa had obviously gotten stuck in quite some time ago. None of this was a surprise. So why did it pull on Haru's chest with so much … sadness?

Why did they remind him so deeply of freedom? Why did their affection toward one another bother something in his core that he didn't know how to name? It was something dejected, something that had been forgotten or perhaps never even realized. It was something small, and yet, in this moment it stung like a cut to his heart. The word _longing_ floated to the surface of his cortex. But why?

The door to the locker room burst open so crudely it made Haru jump. He was already in his jammers, of course, but still half in the action of discarding his uniform, and with the newfound oddity in his feelings, he felt the fear of being vulnerable jump up to his throat as he whirled around to find Gou frowning around the room.

He exhaled, trying not to make a show of it, and pulled his arms out of his sleeves. "We told you to stop busting down the door," he mumbled. "Someone could have been indecent."

"Since when do you care about that?" she huffed, eyes still scanning the room as if they'd somehow missed something the first time. "Where's Makoto-senpai?"

Haru shrugged and turned away from his locker, heading for the pool as if he didn't care about the answer to that question.

"He was supposed to look over the times from prelims with me before practice starts."

"What do you want me to do about that?" Haru said, hardly bothering to pause. He was out the door and on his way up the steps leading to the pool before she could say anything else.

Nagisa and Rei were in the middle of a tussle, their arms locked around each other. It appeared that Nagisa had attempted to push Rei into the pool unawares, but had failed due to the severe difference in their stature. Now he was clinging to Rei's back as though trying to throw him off balance.

"I will not abandon the structure of practice!" Rei shouted, face red.

"Just get in!" Nagisa growled through his teeth, tugging to no avail. His feet weren't even on the ground anymore.

"I have to stretch first!"

Rei heaved Nagisa off of his back, tossing him into the pool with a jolting splash. "Ha!" He let go of a full-bellied, triumphant laugh, leaning over his knees to catch his breath, smile glittering at the little swimmer.

Nagisa's bright blonde head popped out of the pool with a sputter.

Rei chuckled. "You may be quick, but you're still small."

Nagisa slapped the water's surface, splashing it up into Rei's face.

Haru dove into the pool, grateful for the muffled silence that met him when he was submerged. He crossed to the other side, as far from his teammates as possible, refusing to come up for air on his way there. He heard his heartbeat. It's pulsing rhythm was off.

* * *

Makoto was half an hour late to practice.

He appeared suddenly, running up the steps, already out of breath, still tugging on the waistband of his jammers. He came to a stop once he was in view and everyone's eyes turned on him, then he slumped over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Gou was already glaring, her lips pursed. "Excuse me, Mr. Team Captain. Where exactly have you been?"

Makoto's shoulders heaved as he did his best to calm himself before responding.

"I … I was …" But in the midst of looking up and catching Haru's eye from the pool, the answer to that question seemed to abruptly change. "I was helping one of the teachers," he lied, turning his gaze away from Haru, because he knew his best friend could see right through him. "He stopped me in the hallway after class, I tried to be quick about it."

Gou simply tossed her ponytail. The excuse didn't matter to her. "Well, you weren't quick enough. In the pool. Hop to it. You're already half a day behind everyone else."

Makoto brushed his hair from his face as he straightened his back. He apologized, bowing his head politely and jumped into the pool, making a quick warm-up lap before joining the rest of them to practice diving.

Haruka didn't bother to ask Makoto about it, didn't bother to point out that he knew he was lying, didn't bother to scold him for not being there to walk with him to practice or help him out of the pool for the first half hour. He just didn't want to. He'd told himself he would stop being concerned with whatever Makoto had going on and would simply try to trust him to say something when he knew he needed to.

Granted, he would have thought he'd known he needed to a while back — preferably when Haru had started asking questions — but he didn't want to be overbearing, that was Makoto's job. He was the one who fussed and prodded and mommied Haru when he was being stubborn. It wasn't supposed to be the other way around … because Makoto typically wasn't one to be stubborn, but whatever.

Haru just held his tongue — when Makoto was late the first time, and then again a week later, and then again a few days after that, and initially, he wasn't going to say anything when Makoto suddenly up and got a volunteer job at the Swim Club. But when Nagisa and Rei started asking questions, one of which being whether Haru was aware of this or not, that itch seemed to come back twice as persistent.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly, stopping Makoto in his tracks before he could break off to go to his new job and leave Haru to find his own way home.

Makoto looked back first, and then squared his shoulders. His head dropped into that sorrowful tilt it did when he wanted Haru to forgive him. Haru hardly blinked.

"It just happened," Makoto said with a shrug, as though this was no big deal. "I wasn't going to not tell you."

Haru frowned. "You could have texted me," he mumbled, turning his face away.

Annoyingly enough, Makoto's huff of an exhale sounded quite amused. "I'm sorry, Haru. I didn't know it was that important."

Haru's expression threatened to pinch into a grimace, but he held it back. "Is that why you've been late to practice so much?"

At this he swung his eyes back to his best friend and caught the blush that skipped across his cheeks. It was dark out, but he always knew when Makoto was blushing. He had an expression for it.

Makoto croaked out a stutter and chuckled to brush it off. "Uh, no actually," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes averted. "That's … something else."

Haru shifted, watching carefully. "What kind of something else?"

Makoto shrugged. "Nothing important, Haru-chan, just helping some of the teachers after school."

"With what?"

"Just … school stuff. Classroom duties that haven't gotten done, storing lab equipment, things like that."

"But there are other students who can do that," Haru insisted. "You have obligations after school."

Makoto's smile was strained. "You're right. I'm sorry. It is kind of irresponsible."

Haru allowed his nose to twitch. His eyes took in every inch of Makoto, analyzing his posture, taking note of the fingers still rubbing at the back of his hair, reading the aim of his gaze which still refused to look directly at him. Makoto was still lying.

Haru pulled in a tight breath and rolled his shoulders back, making his spine as tall as he could. "Makoto. Are you still unhappy?"

Makoto blinked, finally looking up. "Unhappy?" Though he appeared confused by the question, Haru caught the fraction of hesitation in his response. "No, Haru. I'm perfectly happy. Why do you ask?"

Because I don't believe you.

He didn't voice the comment out loud. In fact, he didn't address the question at all. He set his jaw, but in a way that intentionally hid itself, because he knew Makoto would catch it otherwise. Then he shook his head and shrugged as though it didn't matter and turned to walk away.

"No reason," he mumbled. "Have fun with the kids."

* * *

Apparently, Makoto was only volunteering for a few weeks, but it seemed longer than that to Haru.

Makoto broke away from him with a wave halfway through their walk home three nights a week to help at the Swim Club, and his weekends were now completely booked. So not only did Haru have to walk the rest of the way home by himself much too often, but he was also completely bored when there was no school.

Makoto had mentioned that Haru should come by while he was working, but for several days, Haru had stubbornly and silently refused. He didn't know why, but Makoto having a job irritated him. And the fact that Makoto was enjoying his job made it even worse, because he actually liked being at the Swim Club with snotty children all day, which meant he wasn't bothered about not being with Haru.

Why was that a big deal?

Haru found himself one Sunday morning kneeling by his bed with his nose pressed against the mattress, trying to figure it out. Why _was_ it a big deal that Makoto wasn't around him as often right now? And again, this was supposed to be temporary. He wouldn't always be teaching children how to swim. He wouldn't always be late for practice — because that was still happening every now and then. He wouldn't always have other priorities … right?

His head rocked to the side and he squinted at the framed picture of him and his parents on his nightstand, his cheek squished against his bed. Something fluttered in his chest, and it didn't feel good. His heart wasn't supposed to be so loud that he could hear it outside of the water. He thought again of listening to his mother's heartbeat as he stared at her smiling face in the picture, but the memory, in just one quick instant was swallowed by a deafening silence that engulfed him. He could suddenly hear the groans of the house settling around him — completely empty save for his own breathing body.

They were working, his parents, in Hokkaido. It was necessary. He was fine with that; he always had been. She called every now and then, his mother, to check on him, make sure he was still okay. But when was the last time he had seen her? Why did her work keep them separated?

The flutter hit his chest again, this time with a pain that made him grimace. He wasn't used to thinking about his mother this much, wasn't used to missing her. He didn't need to miss her. He had Makoto. He had Makoto, so he wasn't lonely. But Makoto wasn't here right now, and he wasn't with Makoto, because Makoto was at work.

The grimace turned into a disgruntled scowl and he turned his face into the mattress again. He tried to hold it in his breath, as though by doing so, it could be ignored. And typically, he was good at holding his breath. But it didn't want to sit this time, so it came out as a flustered curse. He punched the bed and pushed himself to his feet.

He didn't allow himself to think about it. He just slipped on some shoes and walked out the door.

But he couldn't just show up for no reason. Makoto didn't need to know Haru was coming to see him because he was lonely. He shuddered at the thought. That was much too intimate, much too needy.

He slowed as he came upon the Tachibana house, his mind reeling, which was something it didn't often do, not frantically in this way. Maybe he could pretend he wasn't aware of Makoto's schedule and ask his parents where he was. Maybe they'd ask him to relay a message for them or send him to check on their son and then he could say he didn't come of his own volition.

It was the best he had, and he didn't want to waste time, so he walked up to the house, did his courtesy knock and let himself in, knowing they'd hear and understand who was intruding on their day.

"Is that you, Haru?" Mrs. Tachibana called from kitchen.

"Yes," he responded, noticing immediately that there were no thundering feet running up the hall, no twittering ten-year-old voices, no rustling of a newspaper. It seemed Makoto's mother was by herself.

She smiled at him when they were in view of one another and continued attacking the dishes in the sink in front of her.

"Are you bored?" she asked, watching what she was doing with a tender grin.

"No," he lied. And he knew she would catch it. She maybe couldn't read Haruka with the same precision Makoto could, but she was his mother after all. "Where are the twins?"

"Their father took them out to the park. They've been getting a bit restless with Makoto gone during the day."

Haru nodded and stood just outside of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. "Have they been gone long?"

"About an hour. They should be back for lunch soon. Actually …" She turned off the faucet, wiped her hands dry and turned to the refrigerator. "Could you do me a favor, Haru-chan?"

She pulled out a neatly wrapped bento box and handed it over to Haru, who took it with more gratitude than she would ever know, because he already knew what it meant.

"Makoto was in a rush this morning and forgot his lunch. Could you bring it to him?"

He didn't let her hear his exhale of relief, but instead played it off as though he didn't care that she was giving him exactly the kind of excuse he'd come to their house in search for.

"Sure," he said with a shrugged.

She smiled warmly, ruffled his hair, and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you, Haru. Come by for dinner tonight, okay?"

He nodded once and turned away, breathing with comfort now that he was on his way and for a reason.

Makoto was grateful, cheery, his green eyes bright the way Haru knew them to be. He seemed to be happy to see Haru, so Haru decided not to be annoyed that Makoto had been leaving him alone. Also, he felt better now that he was next to him. Makoto's magnificent stature always covered him in a way that was comfortable. Though Makoto liked to shield himself behind Haru when he was scared, and though Haru allowed him to do so unbothered, he would admit he liked the feeling of being shrouded by Makoto's height. Something about it just felt secure and familiar. And Makoto typically emitted a pleasant body heat. When they were close to one another, Haru was never bothered by it, and in this moment, he was particularly grateful to know it was there.

"Are you going to swim?" Makoto asked as they sat together on his lunch break.

Coach Sasabe had affirmed that Haru was welcome to do so as soon as he'd stepped through the door. But surprisingly enough, he was in no rush to submerse himself in the comfort of his beloved water. It wouldn't go anywhere … not like Makoto.

"Maybe later," Haru mumbled, nibbling on some of Makoto's lunch.

They always shared Makoto's food. It wasn't a secret that Makoto's mother was an excellent cook who made more than just mackerel and rice. And anyway, Makoto was much too generous. If Haru didn't pick something out of Makoto's bento box on his own, then Makoto either pushed it toward him in silent offer, or just simply placed bites of food in front of him, which Haru would eat without complaining.

Makoto chuckled, his eyebrows popping up in surprise. "Well, that's not like you at all, Haru. I'm surprised you didn't jump in the pool as soon as you walked through the door."

Haru shrugged. He didn't respond. He didn't know how, especially with Makoto's eyes watching him the way they were.

"Are you sick?"

Haru blinked rapidly as the warm pads of Makoto's fingers touched his forehead. He looked up, a little alarmed by the shudder of heat rushing down the back of his neck and through his spine. A barrage of goose bumps attacked his arms. That was odd.

He ignored it and pushed Makoto's hand away, disregarding the teasing smirk. "I don't get sick."

Makoto chuckled. "Sure you don't, Haru-chan."

"Drop the –chan."

Makoto pretended not to hear. He glanced at his watch instead. "Well, I've got about twenty minutes left. Want to have a race?"

Haru tossed his head. "We're never racing again."

Makoto laughed. "Why not? Did I scar you with prelims? You know you won right?"

"We don't need to race," Haru said. "I like when you swim the way you like to swim."

Makoto blinked, his gaze steady on his best friend with something like surprise, cheeks filming over with rouge. Haru didn't look up to meet his gaze. He hadn't meant to pay Makoto a compliment, or express what he thought about his swimming.

The brunet tensed in that way he did when he was about to say something embarrassingly honest, but coincidentally, Coach Sasabe poked his flushed head around the corner in that exact moment.

"Makoto, I'm sorry, but could you give me a hand? One of the kids just threw up and Mai had to go home early."

Makoto popped up immediately. "Of course. I'll be right there."

He pushed the remains of his food in front of Haru and quickly followed after Coach in a light jog. At the last second, however, he caught himself on the corner and looked back to his best friend.

"Sorry, Haru. Stick around, okay? Go for a swim. I'll come find you later."

And then he was gone much too quickly. The evaporation of the warmth from his side brought a frowning tug to Haru's mouth. He suddenly wished he'd agreed to that race.


	7. Chapter 7

Makoto didn't come find him later, but that was because Haru found him first. He'd soaked in the pool for a bit, but there was too much going on with the other swimmers. If he wasn't competing, he preferred to have the pool to himself, it made floating more peaceful.

So he stood against the wall for a while, arms crossed, hair damp, watching his best friend smile ever-so tenderly at his group of … Well they couldn't be much older than six or something.

Outside of Ren and Ran, he never thought much of kids — didn't understand them. Also, they were way too much work. But he knew Makoto had a certain kind of charm that grabbed their attention. He always had, and Haru wasn't even sure that was just because he was an older brother. Really, Makoto just had charm in general. There was no way not to like him, no matter who or how old you were. He was like a star, burning brightly in the dimming light of dusk, the very first to modestly peek into view and show its radiance. You couldn't help but look — no one could help but look — stare, watch, enraptured by the celestial and untouchable existence of something much bigger than yourself. It looked small and shy, but only from a certain vantage point. There was more to it than that, much more.

Haru found himself blinking, his brow dipping on his forehead. He frowned and tore his gaze away from his best friend in favor of finding a place to sit.

He was much too bored, that was his problem, much too bored with no one to mutter gruff comments to.

* * *

"When are you going to be done working at the Swim Club?" Haru said on their way home. He kept his eyes on the ground as they walked.

It had been a pleasant moment for a while — quiet — as they conversationally discussed what Makoto should do about the one kid who hated swimming. Haru didn't understand that, but whatever. He would never say so, but he liked when Makoto asked him for advice. The sandy-haired saint was always good at making Haru feel like he had something to contribute, even when he refused to most times. But that was just like Makoto — to know how much Haru had in him, invite him to acknowledge it, but never pressure him to use it if he didn't want to … Not like most people did, especially now.

"I don't know," Makoto said. They were walking so close to each other that Haru could feel Makoto's arm brush against his as he shrugged. "I'm supposed to be there until they hire someone part-time, but …" He trailed off for a moment, watching the ground beneath his feet. Haru could also feel the tender smile that just lifted Makoto's lips. But that he felt in a different part of him, the part that had always been able to feel the presence of Makoto's smiles.

"I kind of like working there," Makoto said, almost to himself. "I … don't think I want to go back to normal just yet."

Haru frowned immediately, chest stiffening. He turned his head quickly, but Makoto already caught it.

"Do you not like me working there?"

Haru huffed. "I don't care," he said, his voice even, because he'd practiced this many times in his life. "Do what you want."

He could also sense the expression Makoto gave him when he dropped his head to the side. "You only say that when you actually do care, you know."

Haru pursed his lips, and finally met the raised eyebrow Makoto was giving him. "Do you know that?" he said smugly.

Makoto lifted his chin with confidence. "Yes, I do." His grin perked up and he dipped his head a bit, his eyes twinkling on Haru in a way that made him aware of his heartbeat. "You can't get anything by me, Haru-chan." He nudged him off step with his elbow. "And you never will."

Haru pressed his lips flat. Makoto said it, but Haru wasn't sure he knew how weird Haru's pulse was being right now. And Haru couldn't have said why either.

"Whatever," he mumbled, tearing his gaze away.

Makoto chuckled, then became more docile as he exhaled. "Why don't you like me working there?"

"I said, I don't care."

"Haru," Makoto insisted, nudging him again.

Haru dipped his head, knowing his hair would hide his face from Makoto's point of view. He crossed his arms over his chest and held his elbows tightly. He shrugged.

"I just get bored," he grumbled.

Again, he felt that smile, and all the quiet admiration in it. "Have you been lonely?"

Haru turned his face away once more and didn't answer. He was sure he was only giving himself away. Makoto's hand placed itself on the back of his head. Haru's shoulders stiffened, but something very deep within him also shuddered with relief. It only took a moment for the tension in his muscles to unravel. Makoto very gently stroked at his hair. Haru said nothing about it.

"I'm sorry, Haru-chan. I suppose I have been a little busy."

Haru huffed from his nose in response.

"I didn't mean to neglect you. You know …" Makoto paused, a great amount of hesitation in his voice, and when he continued, he dropped his tone several notches. "We'll probably both have real jobs one day. Maybe —"

Haru stopped, that one statement biting him like a wasp sting. He ripped himself away from Makoto's touch, facing him squarely now with wide eyes. His heart was so present, he could feel it clogging up his throat. He just stared, chest suddenly rising and falling more rapidly than it rightly should have.

Makoto stared back at him. His hand frozen in midair, still hovering at about the height of Haru's head. They said nothing for a long while, neither of them having expected Haru to react so suddenly to such simple words.

He didn't know why, but it made his chest ache with panic. Makoto had been about to suggest something awful, he knew that much. Something about them needing to face the reality of a future in which they very honestly might not be able to keep up the same routine. Makoto may not always be able to walk home with him. They might not even be neighbors one day. Maybe someday they'd have to stop playing video games together and sharing blue ices. They most definitely wouldn't get to walk through school together or go to practice — swim together. Might they even be able to _watch_ each other swim after a certain point? Makoto may not even have time to get him out of the bath in the morning one day. Haru may not even have time to _take_ baths in the morning.

The more the thoughts rushed through his mind, the more he panicked. And the more he panicked, the more Makoto snapped back to that side of himself that couldn't stand to make anyone uncomfortable. It seemed like a long time to Haru, just because the feelings were so uncomfortably strong, but in all actuality, Makoto was quick to close the gap between them and shake Haru's shoulder.

"Hey, Haru. I'm sorry. It's okay." His voice wavered just a bit, as though he'd been watching every thought pass through Haru's mind, as though he saw every fear in his eyes. "Forget I said anything, alright? We don't have to worry about that right now. I'll be done at the Swim Club soon, okay? It won't be long."

Haru still just stared. He couldn't move.

"Haru?" Makoto said, a worrisome crease bending his brow. His lips trembled and he shook his friend's shoulder again. "Haru … Haru, it's okay."

His voice sounded so far away, so far out of reach, and Haru couldn't get to it. He couldn't take the hand that was being extended out to him. The hand that he was so familiar with, that was so warm and comforting, that he usually always responded to. He felt a tight tremble in his arms, and something began to pull them down with a weight heavier than gravity. He couldn't lift his hand, couldn't reach back. He'd never be able to get out of the pool, not on his own. He'd drown.

"Haru!"

Haruka gasped and blinked rapidly, his eyes still wide, now actually aware of Makoto's face close to his. His green eyes were glossed with concern, his frown troubled. There was guilt all over his face, as though alarmed that he might have just broken his closest companion.

Haru tried to calm his heart. It wasn't very easy.

Makoto frowned even deeper and touched Haru's forehead again, this time with his palm, his other hand still firmly gripping Haru's shoulder. Haru didn't react to any of this, just continued to stand there, trying to pull his insides together.

"Are you sure you're not sick?" Makoto said. "Why did you react like that?"

Haru's throat went dry. He didn't respond, and he couldn't get his expression back under control either. It was stuck in a state of shock.

Thankfully, Makoto read this quite easily and reeled himself in. "Okay," he said definitively. "We won't talk about it anymore. Let's go home."

His arm slid protectively around both of Haru's shoulders now, leading him away from the spot they'd stopped in, which, Haru noticed, was the beach again. The waves had failed him this time. They hadn't brought any peace at all, any calm, any comfort. And he just dumbly followed as Makoto steered him home, saying nothing because he couldn't.

His mind flashed to the moment he'd stared at the photograph of his family that morning. His heart flashed back to the pain. His stomach dropped to his toes. He stumbled once, and when Makoto's arm tightened its hold around him, Haru shifted closer to his side, leaning into that embrace, willing it never to leave him — like everyone else had.

* * *

As he soaked the next morning before school, he simply sat with his cheek against the side of the tub, staring with a blurred gaze at the steam curling up from the bathwater. He'd gotten into the tub late this morning, only because he'd had to drag himself out of bed.

He'd had a particularly awful dream last night. One in which he'd been in the middle of a race, head bobbing in and out of the water as it rushed by. And each time he broke the surface, he could see Makoto standing at the edge of the pool in the distance, leaning over his knees with one hand stretched out to him, his smile perfectly warm, perfectly pleasant, perfectly Makoto. But no matter how fast Haru swam, he couldn't get to the end. The length of the pool stretched on forever. His limbs got tired, his breathing ragged. He pushed and fought, pleading with the water, completely confused as to why it wouldn't let him move any further forward. And eventually, he felt himself being dragged back. Back and down, as though someone were pulling on his ankles from below while yet another someone pushed down on his shoulders from above. He gasped and kicked, trying to keep his head above the surface, trying to keep his eyes on Makoto, but he appeared to be too weak and was very quickly submerged, and the water filled his lungs. He heard Makoto's voice, calling his name, but when he tried to respond, all that left his mouth were pockets of air that floated away unheard.

And that was it. He'd woken from that same dream three separate times throughout the night before he finally conceded not to go back to sleep and had just stared into the shadows of his room with half-lidded eyes until well past his alarm.

So now he was here in the tub, cheek squished, right hand clutching the dolphin figurine in his fist. And his heartbeat couldn't get itself together.

What was this? Why was this?

"Why?" he repeated out loud to himself, his gaze going even more out of focus.

The distant rustle of someone entering his house reached his ears then, and it wasn't long after that that a very familiar presence entered the bathroom, this time quietly. Haru didn't move.

Makoto watched him for a silent moment and then walked up close and crouched down next to Haru's head. Those same warm fingers lovingly stroked Haru's wet hair back from his face and checked his forehead again as though still not convinced that this could be anything other than a symptom of some kind of illness.

But he appeared not to find anything out of the ordinary, and his touch left all too soon. "Did you sleep last night?" Makoto said, though it was in a tone that seemed to know the answer already.

"I don't know," Haru said, and it was more or less true.

"Do you want to stay home today?"

Haru shook his head. If he decided to stay home from school, Makoto would make sure he got back to bed and had everything he needed, but then he'd leave to go to school and wouldn't come back until he was done working. Haru didn't want him to leave.

So he forced his mind to wake and sat up. "I'm not sick."

Haru didn't look over, but he knew Makoto was watching him with concern. "I'm sorry, Haru," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I didn't know my being at work was bothering you so much."

Haru let himself look over, but Makoto's gaze had already found the floor. His green eyes soaked in a distant sadness, the corner of his mouth pulled down. He was blaming himself, and he didn't even know that it wasn't just being at work that had Haru bothered. Haru felt his stomach twist. Makoto never really had any legitimate reason to blame himself for anything, it was just a bad habit of his. He always felt responsible, especially for matters that involved Haru.

Haruka had long since quit trying to convince Makoto to stop feeling so guilty for stuff. He figured out that the best way to make Makoto feel better was to act as normal as possible, and yet be incredibly gentle. But something about this made him feel so uneasy that he opened his mouth before he even really thought about it.

"Makoto, don't feel guilty," he said, pushing himself up to stand, shivering a bit at the sudden drop in temperature as droplets of water slid down his legs.

Makoto's eyes glanced over him once, before he stood too. "You're not wearing your swimsuit."

"I didn't want to," Haru said. "Stop being sad."

Makoto's lips pressed together as they kept each other's gaze for a moment, each one of them deeply reading into the other's soul. The taller of the two sighed and turned to grab a towel.

"Okay," he said quietly, nodding for Haru to step out of the tub.

Haru obeyed and let Makoto ruffle the towel through his hair before draping it around his shoulders for Haru to do the rest. The remainder of their morning routine was done in silence. Makoto didn't even argue when Haru started making breakfast much too late.

By the time they left the house, they were already fifteen minutes behind. And Makoto was still quiet. Haru let his eyes glance to and from his best friend's face, his stomach upset by the frown still tucked into the corner of Makoto's lips.

"Makoto."

The brunet lifted his gaze.

"You're still sad."

A glimmer of distress shot across Makoto's eyes. "Sorry, Haru-chan. I'm trying."

Haru reached up and poked at the frown. "Make it go away."

Makoto huffed, rolled back his shoulders, shook his head as though casting away sticky demons, and lifted his mouth. He turned it to Haru.

"Better?"

Haru poked him again. "More."

Makoto smiled, but it still wasn't warm enough. "How about now?"

Haru traced his finger up his best friend's cheek. "You have to get it to your eyes."

Makoto exhaled a soft chuckle. His smile settled into a familiar notch this time, and as it did, his eyes brightened. He reached up to Haru's hand and leaned his cheek into his palm, holding it against his face for a moment. He breathed deeply, his eyes sliding closed, thumb absently rubbing over the backs of Haru's fingers.

"Your hands are warm," he muttered, his voice soft.

It was a weightless moment, that lasted much longer than either of them realized, until Makoto opened his eyes again and glanced over to the look on Haru's face. He immediately turned red and dropped Haru's hand, his eyes skipping away, free hand now flying to the back of his head to grip his sandy hair. He used his elbow to hide his face.

"S-Sorry," he stammered, laughing nervously. "I … don't know what came over me."

Though Haru's pulse was in his ears by now, he forced himself to scoff nonchalantly and look away, beginning to walk again, because neither of them seemed to have realized that they'd stopped.

"Don't make such a big deal of it," he mumbled, hanging his head a bit because he didn't want Makoto to know that he was blushing too. "Are you still sad?"

Makoto breathed, seemingly grateful for the way Haru casually brushed off what had just happened. "No." After a pause he added, "Thank you."

Haru swallowed. His chest was doing all kinds of weird things that he didn't quite understand. He probably took far too long to respond, but he eventually mumbled, "I like it better when you smile."

Something about Makoto tensed, but he didn't bring attention to it. "Me too," he said.

They finished the rest of their morning commute with light conversation.


	8. Chapter 8

Haru continued to visit Makoto while he worked. It was better that way, and he liked it even more when he could use Nagisa and Rei or Ren and Ran as an excuse for showing up. He'd still rather he and Makoto spend their time freely doing whatever they wanted, instead of having to watch Makoto run back and forth without being able to talk to him much. But he got used to observing him from afar, and something about that was a little bit endearing too.

Secretly, he liked watching Makoto without Makoto knowing he was doing so. Normally, his best friend thought too much about what Haru was thinking, about every look he gave him or how Haru felt. Haru liked seeing Makoto do the good things that Makoto knew how to do without being concerned. He was dreadfully good at teaching. And it was so obvious how much the kids enjoyed having him as their coach that it hurt.

Haru felt conflicted. Makoto was good at this, and he liked doing it. There was an attractive twinkle of joy in his bright green eyes and everything. Haru could see it even when he was watching from the observation window several yards above the pool room. He had a gift, and he was just beginning to realize it. It should have been exciting. Haru should have been proud. He wanted to be. But he thought about the look on Makoto's face and the uncharacteristically stern way he'd been about to imply that they couldn't always be together, and it just made Haru sick.

What if Makoto found his dream, discovered what he wanted to do in life, before Haru could figure it out too? What if Makoto's dream forced them apart? He hadn't said anything about it yet, hadn't mentioned having a plan for after high school, and that gave Haru a small bit of comfort. But the volunteer coaching … it was pushing Makoto closer to answers, and Haru wasn't ready for him to get there yet. They needed to do that together. They had to.

Haru was trying to try to feel desire for something, to find a passion that would be useful to him after high school. But he was only interested in swimming and not the way everyone wanted him to be. And every time someone mentioned something about it, or tried to get him to talk to scouts, or hinted that he should see a guidance counselor to pick out a school for college it made something in his stomach lock down, and he couldn't face it. And the form, that little slip of paper that asked him what he wanted to do with his life, it stressed him out more than anything else did.

He couldn't concentrate. And he wasn't convinced he was going to find the answer just by looking for it. Though, if the answers didn't come quickly enough … But Makoto wouldn't leave him behind right? He couldn't. It wasn't in his nature. Makoto followed him everywhere. Except in this one instance, but Haru was sure he just couldn't help it. Makoto was obligated to offer a hand when someone needed it. It was in his DNA. That's all this was, just Makoto doing his dutiful best to be an angel without having to try. So then … there shouldn't be anything to worry about.

He hadn't thought about it in a while, but that shimmering pool of secrets came to mind, the one he could look at any time but didn't. Something new was in there, or at least, something he hadn't noticed before. And instead of holding answers to questions he had about Makoto, this one seemed to harbor a whisper of honesty regarding something Haru needed to know about himself. He was very tempted to look at it, drawn to it like a moth attracted to the porch light. And in fact, he could've sworn he saw a glimpse of it in that moment when Makoto had leaned his cheek into Haru's palm. But something told him if he looked too closely, it would make it all worse. And then his stomach would never stop turning when he looked at Makoto, his heart would never calm down.

* * *

Makoto was released from his volunteering just a couple of weeks before regionals. It would have been relieving for Haru in a lot of ways, except that everyone was bearing down on him about the future, so he couldn't appreciate it enough — because Makoto kept wanting to ask him questions too. He was gentle about it, and wouldn't continue when Haru stopped him or made it very clear that he didn't want to discuss it, but he seemed to get more anxious about wanting to discuss it as the time went by. Haru just mentally plugged his ears.

Also, he was ignoring all of Rin's calls, because he knew, without having to listen to a single word, that he wanted to talk about it too. It was irritating, but also quite suffocating, and he was having more and more of those dreams at night, the ones that ended with him drowning. They were beginning to vary themselves, but when he woke up, the first thought on his mind was always that Makoto was too far away. This was becoming overbearing, and he was tired.

On one of these nights, he woke up in the middle of one of his dreams, this time by a jarring clap of thunder that shot his back up straight. He hardly had time to catch his breath and get his bearings right before he was blinded by a flash of lightening. The rumble that followed shook the entire house, and he found himself sliding out of bed to push back the curtains on his window and stare at the rain pelting hard against the glass.

He let an exhausted sigh fall through his open lips and walked back to sit on the edge of his bed. It took a moment, but he realized the lack of humming from the AC unit meant that the power had gone out, and he wasn't sure how long it had been out at this point.

He frowned, a pinch of concern furrowing his brow as he thought about his best friend in the house down the stone steps, not all that far away, and yet so unreachable.

Makoto hated thunderstorms. And what was more, he didn't like to sleep in the dark. By now he'd certainly be awake as well, probably clutching the hem of his blanket up to his nose with his back against the wall.

Once, when they were seven, Haru had woken on one of their sleepover nights to find Makoto curled into a ball on his knees at the foot of the bed, buried deep in the blankets, his body shaking with tears. Haru had forced himself to turn over and crawl underneath the blanket too. He'd pressed his cheek against the bed — which at that age had been enormous to him — and tried to peek through the gaps between Makoto's fist and the side of his face.

A clap of thunder had rattled the windows and as it died down Haru could very clearly hear Makoto's frightened whimpering. For some reason, he'd simply lay there in a child's pose for a while, sleepily blinking and listening to Makoto cry over the rain. Then when he stopped being curious, he'd poked his friend in the shoulder.

"Makoto, why are you scared?" he'd asked under a yawn.

Makoto whined a response, but his words were swallowed by the mattress. Haru didn't know what he said, but he'd hardly needed to at the time. So instead of asking him to repeat himself, Haru had sighed and pushed himself up on his knees. He wrapped his tiny arms around Makoto's back and tugged on him until he stretched out of his protective ball and allowed Haru to lay him back down properly and pull the covers up to his neck.

Makoto whimpered all the while, and Haru wiped the wet from his cheeks.

"No more crying," he said sternly.

Makoto sniffed, and though it didn't really stop all of his tears, he moaned a shaky, "Okay," and rubbed at his eyes.

"You're brave," Haru assured him, sliding back down beneath the blankets and curling his arms around his best friend without having to think about it.

"Okay," Makoto said again, a little more convinced that time. He and Haru pressed their foreheads together, and Haru had held onto him for the rest of the night, even after Makoto stopped shaking and fell asleep.

Another flicker of lightening lifted Haru's eyes from the floor and he swallowed, limbs aching. An uneasy pang jumped in his heart, forcing him to grimace. He squeezed his eyes shut, sighed, and then looked at his cell phone, sitting quietly next to his pillow.

He wasn't staring at it for more than three seconds before it lit up with an urgent vibration and Makoto's name popped up on the screen. Haru reached over and answered.

"What's wrong?" he said, as though he didn't already know.

"Are you okay?" Makoto asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why are you calling?" Like he wasn't about to do the exact same thing.

"Mmm …" Makoto's time-wasting hum turned into a moan of fear when the thunder hit again. "I think it's right over the house," he whispered.

"Seems like it," Haru mumbled. "Are you going to be okay?"

Makoto gave a winded laugh. "It-It's just a storm. The power went out. Is it out at your house too?"

"Yeah, I just noticed."

"It's so dark," Makoto's voice said, shrinking as though he was trying to play it off like a casual comment but failing.

"Grab a flashlight," Haru said.

Makoto feigned a laugh again. "You're so cold, Haru."

"Why are you scared?"

"I'm not sca — Ah!" Makoto screamed this time when the thunder barked. There was a rustling noise, and Haru imagined Makoto burying himself underneath his blankets. "Haru," he whined, abandoning his attempts to sound unaffected.

Haru sighed and stood from his bed. "Is everyone asleep?"

"I think so," Makoto said, his voice muffled. "I haven't gotten out of bed to check. I can't hear them."

"The storm's not going to eat you while you're in the house, Makoto." Haru slipped a hoodie over his head and stuffed his bare feet into his sandals.

"You're not funny," Makoto mumbled.

"Why don't you listen to music?"

"I don't have any headphones."

"I just gave you a pair two weeks ago."

He pulled the front door open and squinted against the rain that sprayed his face and blew back his hair. The storm was furious. The path down the stone steps was nearly pitch black. He could just barely see the silhouettes of the creaking houses next door and the swirling leaves floating across the deep grey backdrop of the night sky as they were ripped from the trees. A streak of lightning lit up the path for a split second, and he closed the door securely behind him, pulling his hood low over his head.

"Ren stole them," Makoto said, oblivious to the rising level of noise surrounding Haru as the wind whipped against his back, pushing him down the steps.

The water seeping through his hoodie and splashing against his shins felt good, but the gale was mean. He kept his voice as level as ever, making sure it was unbothered for Makoto's sake. "So go get them from his room."

"I can't," Makoto whined, his voice trembling with the rumble of the storm. "I'm too afraid to move."

"I thought you said you weren't scared."

"I lied!" Makoto squealed as the thunder came back with a vengeance.

Haru looked up at just the right second to catch a deathly bolt of lighting that struck the ground a few miles away. He kept moving. It was fascinating more than it really bothered him, but he could practically feel Makoto's heart leaping out of his chest in terror.

"What if a tree falls on the house?" Makoto whimpered. "What if it's a hurricane? What if we have to evacuate the —"

"Makoto, you're just making up scenarios," Haru said, finally trudging up the Tachibana porch steps and pulling the door open.

Makoto gasped in his ear as Haru closed the door behind him. "Haru," he whispered urgently. "I think there's someone in the house."

Haru rolled his eyes to himself as he discarded his shoes and made his way quietly through the living room. "What makes you think that?" he asked under his breath.

"I heard something."

"Like what? The storm?"

"No, like the door. Someone's walking through the house! What should I do?"

Haru slipped silently past the twins' room. "Go check it out."

Makoto moaned, but Haru could hear the bed groaning as he rolled off the mattress. "What if someone's coming to kill us?"

"Who would come to kill you in the middle of a storm like this?"

"Haru, I'm serious. There's someone here."

Haru kept silent as he touched his feet down lightly in front of Makoto's door.

"Haru … Haru, are you still there?" Makoto groaned. Haru could hear him jumping anxiously on his toes on the other side of the door. "Okay." He sucked in a breath. "Okay, I'm gonna go look."

Makoto's door opened, he slapped his hand over his mouth the moment he jumped, and Haru flicked his wet sleeve in his face.

"Stupid," he scoffed, knowing his grin was well hidden in the shadows.

Makoto's startled gasp turned into a growl and he lashed a punch out at Haru's shoulder. "Haruka!" he hissed through his teeth, punching him again — twice.

He couldn't see it in the dark, but he knew Makoto's face was bright red. He snickered to himself, admittedly unbothered by the sting in his shoulder. Makoto had a good arm though.

"Why would you do that to me?" Makoto whined, sinking down against the wall.

Haru stepped over his legs and closed the bedroom door. "I wanted to get your mind off the storm."

"By making me think we were being robbed?!"

"You're going to wake everyone up."

He pulled his hoodie over his head and dropped it to the floor, then dug around blindly in Makoto's drawers and exchanged his soaked clothes for dry ones. Makoto was still trying to get his heartbeat under control.

"Haru," Makoto said breathlessly. "I'm so upset with you right now."

"Okay," Haru shrugged, though he knew Makoto couldn't see it. "I'll just go back home then."

"No," Makoto said quickly. He caught himself and cleared his throat. "I-I mean …" He groaned, and pushed himself back up to his feet. "You shouldn't have walk through the rain like that."

Even as he said so, he managed to shuffle his way across the room, find Haru's hair and ruffle it dry with what felt like a t-shirt.

"I made it just fine," Haru said, scrunching his nose as his head bobbled around under Makoto's forceful hands.

"But you could get sick."

"Well I'm dry now," he said, snatching Makoto's wrists to get him to stop. The t-shirt slipped from his head and a flash of lighting lit up Makoto's face in front of him. He snapped his attention to the window, his fingers curling into trembling fists. Haru saw the frightened frown right before everything went dark again.

He sighed. "Lay down and go back to sleep," he ordered, pulling Makoto toward the bed with the grip he still had on him.

Makoto allowed himself to be sat on the edge of his bed, but snatched Haru's shirt with a gasp as soon as he let go.

"Don't leave!" Makoto whispered urgently.

"I'm not leaving." Haru turned and sat his phone on top of Makoto's dresser, then picked his way back across the room and crawled over Makoto to slip under the covers against the wall.

Makoto didn't fully lie back until Haru was settled and didn't move anymore. Haru watched Makoto's silhouette as the larger teen sighed heavily and sank back against his pillow, shoulders still tense. Another streak of lightning lit the sky outside the window. A crack of thunder rattled the house, and Makoto turned over with a whimper, sinking down until his face was in Haru's chest and his trembling hands were gripping the front of his shirt.

Haru didn't think about it. He just slid his arm around Makoto's back and held onto him protectively, letting the tip of his nose touch Makoto's hair as he relaxed into the pillow.

"You've got to stop doing this," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

"It's scary," Makoto mumbled into his chest, barely loud enough for Haru to hear.

"It's just rain."

"No. It's just thunder, and lightening, and wind, and God."

"Well I don't think God's going to blow the house down tonight. Go to sleep."

Makoto heaved a giant sigh, his warm breath blossoming across Haru's chest as it seeped through his shirt. A shiver crawled up his spine, suddenly making him aware of how close they were. He didn't move, but he started to notice his heart again.

"What's wrong?" Makoto's muffled voice asked, noticing too.

"Nothing," Haru mumbled. He pulled the covers further up over them and just barely noticed the tingle in his fingertips as they moved consolingly across Makoto's back of their own accord. His touch was light at first, and he seemed unable to stop it, but when Makoto's shoulders finally dropped with satisfaction, Haru allowed his hand to run across Makoto's back without concern.

The trembling stopped and Makoto's grip loosened. He heaved a second sigh and, when it was followed by another thunderclap, he didn't flinch this time. They both settled, wide awake, but docile, and neither of them eager to say anything about this closeness. They were used to sleeping next to each other, but Haru rubbing gentle circles between Makoto's shoulder blades was another thing entirely, and they both knew that if a word was spoken about it, the moment would be ruined. So they were silent. Haru distantly admired the strength of each muscle following Makoto's spine, and Makoto listened to Haru's irregular heartbeat. And this was what lulled them to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

They didn't talk about it the next morning, and it didn't weigh on them either. By the time they opened their eyes to Mrs. Tachibana waking them up for school — completely unsurprised by Haru's presence — it was just another day with their best friend.

Haru gratefully ate the mackerel Mrs. Tachibana fed him, listening to Ren and Ran chatter about the crazy dreams they had last night, as he waited for Makoto to get ready. Mr. Tachibana shared the comic strip from his newspaper the way he always did when Haru was around. And by the time Makoto appeared in his uniform, Mrs. Tachibana had already packed lunches for both of them. They voiced their thanks. Makoto leaned over between his brother and sister so they could each kiss his cheek. Haru consented to Mr. Tachibana's insistence that he come back for dinner that night, and then the boys made their way back to Haru's so that he could change into his uniform.

They had very normal, light-hearted conversations on their way to school, stepping over fallen tree branches, stopping for melon buns as they actually had extra time, and arguing why it was or wasn't okay to skim one's fingers over the tops of trash bin lids to collect leftover raindrops that hadn't dried yet. Makoto forced him to wash his hands as soon as they got to school.

They went through their classes also very much like normal, and Haru complained when Gou found them before lunch to suggest that they use their break to clean the debris out of the pool. Nagisa chatted the entire time about how he slept through the entirety of the storm and teased Makoto for being scared. Haru suggested that he bother Rei some more because he wasn't convinced Nagisa was succeeding at his life's purpose, and Rei didn't appreciate that. They scarfed down their lunches once the pool was clean and went back to their classes when the bell rang.

Makoto didn't disappear after their last class, and he and Haru walked to practice together and made it on time. They joined in on Rei and Nagisa's conversation as they all changed in the locker room, and then they began one of their last rigorous training sessions before regionals.

It was a peaceful day. The sky left no traces that it had been angry the night before. The wind was light, lazy and comfortable. The scent of chlorine and honeysuckles danced across the pool grounds over the breeze, and the sunset was especially orange and vibrant by the time they reached the cool down portion of practice.

Haru listened to the chirping of cicadas in the distance as he sat perched on the edge of the pool. He had one knee propped up, chin resting comfortably on his crossed arms. His other leg dragged slowly back and forth through the water, keeping him pacified. Nagisa was sitting next to him, legs crossed, weight leaning back on his palms. And they both watched as Makoto worked a little longer with Rei to build up his speed as much as possible.

Again, Haru was very aware of his heartbeat, but though he could hear it, though he could feel it, it was much softer in this moment, cuddled around itself as though it was completely appeased. Though for a while Rei and Makoto stood close to each other as they talked, Haru's eyes stayed steady on the sandy-haired boy with the strong broad shoulders. He was good at teaching, just as gentle with Rei as he had been with the kids at the Swim Club. His voice was soft, encouraging, full of wisdom, and Rei drank it all in readily, stepping up on the starting block to execute all of Makoto's latest instructions.

Haru's gaze blurred over as his mind drifted back to the night before, to Makoto's warm breath against his chest, to the shape of his back between his shoulder blades. Haru's cheeks turned warm and he could feel his body sinking with a silent sigh.

Rei dove into the water and Makoto followed him along the pool edge.

"He's gotten so much better," Nagisa said.

Haru blinked himself out of his daze and glanced to his left. Nagisa carried a soft smile on his lips, his eyes watching the boy in the water. Haru made a noise of agreement under his breath.

"Rei-chan's going to be a superhero one day."

"What do you mean?" Haru asked, though he didn't think much of it.

"Well, he learns so fast. He's like a sponge. He can soak up anything you give him, and he'll remember it all. That's pretty close to a superpower if you ask me. And he's just the kind of person that would use his powers for good. He's going to be even more amazing than he already is." Haru watched as Nagisa's grin curled up, eyes mystified, and he quietly added, "Someone like that is quite dangerous."

Haru's brow dipped thoughtfully. He glanced over at Rei flying through the water and then back at Nagisa whose expression, he realized, had never carried so much gentle admiration. Nagisa was a burning ball of relentless energy, that's what Haru was used to. But he was just now noticing how almost drunkenly calm Nagisa was in this moment, not very far off from the way Haru felt himself. Maybe there was something in the air.

"Nagisa," he said quietly, curiously. "You really like Rei."

Nagisa's magenta eyes dropped a fraction of a degree, his cheeks rosy with a satisfied smile. He looked at Haru slowly and nodded once. "Yes. I do."

He didn't know why, but it was only just now sinking in how truly deep Nagisa's adoration was for Rei, that he didn't pester their friend simply because he'd made a bold declaration or had a silly crush on him. Nagisa's whole heart was with Ryūgazaki. And the butterfly in the water truly had no idea how much he affected the way Nagisa tempered his energy. It was so specific, Haru was surprised he'd never noticed until now. To him, Nagisa was just always running on one-hundred, but now he was starting to glean just how much effort Nagisa intentionally put into calling for Rei's attention, and conversely, just how mollified the little blonde could be simply watching from a distance.

"Rei-chan's very smart," Nagisa said, pulling his knees up to his chest and rocking back on his tailbone as he turned his eyes back to the man in question. "And even though he pretends to be annoyed, he's very generous with his time. He has a great sense of humor too." Nagisa chuckled. "When I saw him running to school the first time, I was very fascinated. And the more stubborn he was about talking to me, the worse it got. I wanted him to join the team, but admittedly I was being a bit selfish, because I knew if he came around, I'd get to learn more about him … And I'm still fascinated."

Haru watched the side of Nagisa's face as he talked. Something about the look in his eyes reminded him of Makoto, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly about that did so.

"How could you be so confident that you can get him to like you back?" He didn't ask it meanly. He was genuinely interested in the answer now, because he wanted to know what fueled Nagisa's courage.

But Nagisa just shrugged. "I'm not," he said honestly. "I have no idea if it'll ever work. I just hope that it will. He still rides the train home with me and lets me study at his house so …" He looked back to Haru with a smile. "I think we're okay."

Haru pursed his lips. "It doesn't bother you, not knowing how it's going to turn out?"

Nagisa hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not bothered. I get nervous sometimes, but I think it's okay as long as Rei-chan's happy. And I know he'll tell me when he's not."

Haru blinked, surprised by the impact these words had on his chest, shuddering through his veins like an electric shock. They left a tingle in his fingers, a tingle that felt awfully like the one he'd picked up from touching Makoto's back. He thought back to when he was annoyed with Makoto for not saying anything about why he was unhappy, and he realized there had never truly been a resolution to that.

He felt his brow bend again, this time with concern. His eyes glanced back up at Makoto across the pool. He was standing with his arms comfortably crossed over his torso, his bare chest out, shoulders at ease, expression thoughtful as Rei spoke up to him while he clung to the pool edge. He seemed relaxed. He seemed okay. Was he happy though?

A curious pair of eyes glanced back and forth between Haru and Makoto, but Haru wasn't aware until Nagisa spoke up again. "I talked to Mako-chan after your race at prelims."

Haru blinked and glanced back. Nagisa's smile was tender, and oddly mature.

"I asked him why he wanted to race you. He said he was jealous of Rin."

Haru nodded vacantly. "He told me."

"Do you know why?"

Haru shrugged, his eyes finding their way back across the pool. "He said he wanted to motivate me the way Rin does."

"Motivate you?"

Haru nodded. "To swim."

There was a moment of silence from Haru's left, but he hardly noticed it. "Are you sure that's the kind of motivation he was talking about, Haru-chan?"

Haru blinked again, this time physically stiffening. He forced himself to look back at Nagisa, who now had an eyebrow raised, as though he didn't believe for a second that what Makoto had said was true. Haru frowned.

"What else would he have been talking about?"

Nagisa's head tilted. "You guys have been friends for a long time, you know. Longer than I've known you. Do you think after so many years of staying at each other's houses, and sharing food and clothes and parents, and getting you out of the bath every single morning, that Makoto's only concerned with motivating you to swim?"

Haru didn't respond, hardly even blinked, and he was somehow unaware that his lungs weren't quite working right.

Nagisa pursed his lips and rocked again. "Actually, Haru-chan, I've been wondering … You keep avoiding making decisions about what you want to do after school. You haven't talked to any scouts, and you seem to get irritated whenever someone brings it up …"

At this Haru turned his face away, exactly confirming what Nagisa was referring to. He could feel his face heating up, but Nagisa continued.

"I know you want to be free," he said gently. "But I can't help wonder if maybe you're putting it off because you know making a plan might mean you and Mako-chan can't be together like you're used to."

Haru's heart stopped. Everything about his expression fell and it was a while before he realized how intensely his eyes were now staring straight into the rippling pool — the rippling pool which quite jarringly began to shimmer with an abrasive clarity he wasn't sure he wanted, but couldn't look away from anymore.

"Are you waiting for him to make a decision?" Nagisa asked.

Haru's heart moved up to his throat, but it couldn't fit all the way, so his response was very soft. "I don't want him to make a decision."

He was shocked. He hadn't told himself to say that.

Nagisa nodded. "I know you're the one who usually gets lifted out of the pool, but I think Mako-chan relies on you for a lot. I can't imagine he could stand to be without you for very long."

Haru's spine stiffened. His throat began to close around the lump that was stuck in it, and he was bombarded with the realization of why Nagisa's gaze reminded him of Makoto, of why the way Nagisa and Rei interacted with each other made him sad, of why Rin had anything to do with Makoto being unhappy, and why Haru couldn't stand to plot out his future or watch Makoto do things without him. It was glaring, like staring directly into the sun, and it had just been sitting there underneath the surface of everything he'd been trying to avoid this whole time.

"Nagisa," he said, his voice breathless. He looked to Nagisa with panicked eyes, and the blonde-headed young man dropped his shoulders.

"It's okay, Haru-chan," he soothed. "I won't ruin it. But maybe you should have a talk with Mako-chan?"

Haru dropped his gaze back to the pool. He shivered, nodded, and placed his chin back on his arms.

* * *

He was silent on the way home. He didn't know what to say, how to put the words together. Should he make a statement or pose a question? Should he come right out and say what he suddenly knew about Makoto? Or should he admit what he knew about himself first? There was so much thinking involved, so many variables to consider. He wasn't used to having to push himself so hard to be smart about how he spoke. He usually just said what was on his mind, didn't bother with how it sounded or that it might be rude. But this was something delicate, and he knew that. He couldn't just push Makoto into it — he'd learned that the hard way. But also, he wasn't all that convinced he could just push himself into it either.

So nothing at all was said about it on their way to the Tachibana house. Haru just listened to the lull of Makoto's voice as he talked comfortably about how well he thought they were going to do at regionals.

Haru followed him home and sat at dinner with his family, glancing silently around the table at all of them, heart thudding uncomfortably again with the reemphasis of how very much Makoto's family was also Haru's family.

Friends? Of course the word "friends" was offensive. They'd been doing this for most of their lives. Calling themselves friends was a gross understatement. They only used it because that was the technical term for two people who shared a bond of mutual affection, but what if there was more to it than that? What if you've spent your whole life around that other person? What if you depend on them to be the first face you see every day? What if you need them present to reassure you you're not alone? What if their smile is the only thing you need to know everything's going to be okay? What if you're the person they cling to when they're afraid? What if they've made a ritual out of making sure your feet make it back on solid ground? What if you've realized you can't live without that ritual? What if you grow to know each other so well that you don't need to talk too much in order to know what's on each other's minds? What if you can _feel_ when there's something wrong, or when you don't have to look at them to know they're smiling? What if you like sleeping next to them? What if you find yourself searching for their warmth? What if touching their back means just a little bit more to you than it should? Would "friends" still be the right word?

It was still very hard to breathe. Haru wasn't all that sure he was taking in air. Could he still be swimming, mind running amuck? He did feel like he had to focus harder on his movements, like his arms would float away from his body if he didn't intentionally keep them close, or his legs would start to drag him down if he didn't move them.

Mrs. Tachibana tried to shoo him away from the kitchen when he began to help clean the dishes after dinner, but he wouldn't let her. He needed more time to think before he had to go home, before he said his last words for the night. He knew he could have stayed the night if he wanted to, but that scared him right now. What was he supposed to do, knowing how he and his best friend both felt about each other? Act normal?

He listened to Mrs. Tachibana chat in his ear about a conversation she recently had with his mother over the phone, not unlike the way he'd listened to Makoto on their way to dinner. And as they cleaned the dishes, Makoto chased the twins around the house, wrestling one into the bath and the other into their pajamas. He checked their school bags for their homework, chastised Ren from the bathroom door about not finishing his, and brought both of the report cards they'd been hiding to their father.

The moment passed much too quickly. The kitchen was spotless and Mrs. Tachibana disappeared to take responsibility for putting her children to bed. Mr. Tachibana went to help her and address Ren and Ran about their report cards, and Makoto ended up behind Haru's back, pulling a bag of leftovers out of the fridge.

"Make sure you eat this please," he said, handing the bag to Haru. "Don't make my mother throw a fit about your diet. She makes enough for you at every meal, you know."

Haru nodded and hummed a response, unable to look at Makoto directly for a while. But when his lack of movement dragged on for too long, he knew he had to speak up before Makoto began to ask him questions.

"Makoto," he said, drawing the other's dutiful attention with ease.

Makoto leaned against the kitchen doorway, so ready to listen to whatever Haru had to say. He panicked.

"Will you … walk home with me?"

Makoto's head tilted, because this wasn't normal. But rather than prod at Haru for an explanation, he simply nodded and turned to lead to way.

"Sure."

They stuffed their shoes on at the door and Makoto called out to his parents that he'd be back in a minute. Once they confirmed that they heard, the boys left the house and walked in step with each other up the stairs to Haru's. He still didn't say anything, not as long as he could get away with not, but when his house came into view, his heart jumped up to his throat again and he feared the moment Makoto would leave his side. His feet stopped on the last landing, and he didn't move any farther forward.

Makoto paused and looked back. "Haru? What's wrong?

Haru's wrist flexed, shaking the bag in his hand so that it repeatedly hit against his thigh. He bit at the inside of his lip, eyes shifting, hoping his skin wasn't betraying him already.

"Makoto," he said slowly, still unable to meet his gaze. "Will we be … friends — after high school?"

Makoto shifted, and Haru didn't have to look to know he was confused. "Of course, Haru-chan," he said, his tone a little bewildered as well. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Haru grimaced internally. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't he voice it right? Why couldn't Makoto just read his mind like always and know what he was trying to ask?

He decided to give Makoto the chance to, but in order to do that he had to look up, had to meet his gaze, had to _let_ him read his mind. So he did and he remained silent, trying to speak it all through his gaze without really knowing if something that complex could be conveyed with just a look.

Makoto's expression became heavy. He picked up on something, and whatever it was made him sigh through his nose, ready to speak something he apparently didn't want to.

"Can we … talk about after high school?"

Haru frowned. Makoto hadn't picked up on the right part.

"Haru," he said, catching the stubborn teenager before he could brush off the subject entirely. But this isn't what Haru had wanted to talk about. "Please, you have to decide what you want to do."

Haru's nose wrinkled at that. He didn't like the way Makoto said it. He took a step back from him, his eyes serious as he gazed deeply at his best friend. "Are you going to leave me?" he said, his voice quiet but incredibly blunt.

Makoto's lips twitched. He didn't blink, didn't move, didn't even look like he was breathing either. This question didn't seem to surprise him, didn't catch him off-guard in any way, didn't alarm him — as though he'd been waiting for it.

"I don't want to leave you," he whispered.

Haru's jaw locked. A wall came down between them out of nowhere, and he immediately turned bitter. This was not what he had wanted to talk about at all. He couldn't pry his teeth apart.

"That's why I want to talk about it, Haru-chan," Makoto said gently. "Maybe we could —"

"Stop calling me –chan," Haru said.

A crease formed on Makoto's brow. It didn't come out the way it normally did. It wasn't with half-effort and an unspoken acknowledgement that they both knew he actually liked when Makoto called him that. This was abrasive, was harsh, was hurt. This made a very definitive statement that Makoto was not allowed to continue to talk about this with him. And the brunet heard every implicit word of that.

Makoto took a step back, his height dropping as that step was the first to take him back down the stairs separating their lives. He didn't turn away yet, didn't drop his gaze. He wanted to say something comforting, but he was afraid to, because he didn't know what Haru would do with it.

"Why can't it stay the same?" Haru asked, shaking his head.

Thankfully, this time, Makoto understood the complexities behind that question. But he shook his head right back, his eyes shining in the moonlight.

"I don't know," he whispered. He swallowed and continued on a shaky breath. "But if it doesn't change … wouldn't _we_ stay the same?"

Haru heard it. They both understood. But they weren't going to address it directly, not with their voices. It was to be kept in wordless conversations until they could figure out what to do with it — the agreement was made quickly. Because there were too many things to be uncertain about and they both knew Haru wasn't going to make them certain any time soon.

The disappointment was loud when Makoto dropped his eyes, and it made something in Haru's chest splinter.

"Goodnight, Haruka."

He turned away, and Haru didn't stop him. But every bone in his body shivered with grief as he watched his favorite person in the world walk away from him with sagging shoulders, the echo of his goodnight stinging his soul. There were so many things about this moment he wished he could take back. But he went home instead.


	10. Chapter 10

Regionals came. The nightmares were worse. And what was more, he'd been sent off with high expectations from his principal. Scouts, scouts, scouts, more scouts, more expectations, more pressure, more waiting, more insistence that he make a decision and declare how he was going to separate himself from his best friend. From his … Makoto.

He couldn't think. He couldn't think. He couldn't think. He was drowning. And so he had to leave their hotel room, slip away while Makoto was in the shower. He didn't say anything, he couldn't. So he just left and he found himself running. Maybe if he moved his legs fast enough it would fall behind him. Maybe it would be too slow, maybe he could turn the clock back and pretend these weren't decisions he had to make, had to face, had to live in.

He tried to hush the voices ringing in his mind, so he pumped his legs harder, but the more he zoned out, the more he could hear himself breathing, the more he was pushed back into bubbles of time spent with Makoto. He remembered floating on their backs next to each other in middle school, fully clothed and relieved because Makoto had suddenly decided a causal midnight swim with Haru was what he needed to remind himself of who he was. He remembered saving Makoto from drowning in the ocean during their training camp and dragging his unconscious body onto a deserted island in the middle of the night, terrified beyond belief that his bright green eyes would never open again. He remembered that moment when Makoto had tossed his head back with a glittering smile after losing their race and realizing for the very first time just how beautiful he was. He remembered walking through the rain to Makoto's house, not for the first time, but definitely on a pivotal night that ended with him drawing calming circles on his back.

If he made the wrong decision, if he picked the wrong school, if he couldn't find the right dream, if he forgot why he swam — or who the very first person was that had encouraged him to swim to begin with — then there wouldn't be anymore memories. There wouldn't be more moments to remember. There wouldn't be more chances to be that close to Makoto. There wouldn't be more chances to be even _closer_ to Makoto.

He was shaking with the exhaustion of being overwhelmed by it all, and by the time he made it back to the room he and Makoto were sharing, he could barely stand on his feet anymore.

Makoto was already asleep, so he tried to soak, but his mind was too restless to stay there. Water failed. So he crawled into his bed, his bed that was just a few feet from Makoto's but still too far away. His eyes were tired. His body was tired, but he stared at Makoto for a solid half hour without blinking, before his eyes finally couldn't take it and took the initiative of shutting for the night. Only, the dream came back and it was much much worse. He didn't drown this time, he fell, stepped straight off the diving platform in his fear to get away from the pressure, and he dropped, plummeted to the death of everything.

He shot up in a cold sweat, breath heaving, hands shaking. He glanced at the clock. It had only been two hours. He looked to Makoto, still sleeping soundly, unbothered in his rest, dreaming who knew what, his hair falling across his forehead, mouth slightly open as he breathed deep and slow. Haru swallowed. He looked away and raked his fingers through his hair, brushing away the sweat that came with it.

He stared at the shape of his legs beneath the covers and concentrated on slowing his heartbeat. It had gotten much too out of control over the past few months. It used to be so unbothered, so uncaring, so steady. Now it felt too many things, it had to work too hard, it was sore. He exhaled, long and slow, waited — he wasn't sure what for.

A compressed silence crowded his ears, just making his pulse that much louder. He caught himself frowning, and bit his lip to keep that from trembling too.

He was upset with himself for it, but it was all he could think to do. So he pushed the blanket away and slid as silently as possible off of his own bed and into Makoto's. His movements were achingly slow, cautious, careful not to wake Makoto from his slumber because he didn't want him to worry, didn't want to have to talk about it or explain. He eased himself down as close to Makoto as he could get without directly touching him, but his body heat was already enough to calm him. He lay stiffly, just long enough to be sure he hadn't broken Makoto's sleep, and then he let his body sink as he released a long exhale. The exhaustion returned, his eyelids drooped, and again he found himself staring across the room, this time listening to the pattern of the breathing behind him.

It took so long, and all the while, he forced his mind not to think, dipped into the grace of numbness even though he knew he'd get stuck in it. It was the only way to escape the fear. His gaze went in and out. His breathing turned silent. He became immobile, but still didn't sleep.

He didn't know how much time passed, but he'd slipped so far into such a forced detachment that when Makoto's arm slid around him and pulled him close, he didn't even react. His brain-dead mind automatically assumed Makoto was just reaching out for something to hold in his sleep, but then gentle fingers began to glide through Haru's hair, and he finally blinked. His heart beat once. Makoto pulled him even closer, until the heat of his chest rested flush against Haru's back. In the midst of the motion, Makoto's thumb brushed consolingly across Haru's chest, intentionally announcing his loyal presence. Haru closed his eyes.

* * *

Again, the following morning, nothing was said about it. Though this time, there was a somber presence lingering in their room as they got ready for the tournament. Haru could feel Makoto's eyes checking on him every few minutes, but he didn't acknowledge it. He knew Makoto was worried, knew that Makoto knew that Haru wasn't in the right frame of mind to be doing anything, much less competing in a swim meet. But Haru stiffly went through the motions at an attempt to prove that he could and would function properly for his team. He just had to remain silent in order to do so.

So he didn't talk when they met up with Rei and Nagisa in the hallway, didn't say anything when they made their way to the stadium with Amakata-sensei and Gou. Didn't greet Gou's friends when they arrived to cheer them on, and gave Makoto short responses when he questioned Haru for a clue. He asked what was wrong, but Haru knew Makoto was looking for some assurance that Haru could just make it through the day.

This, Haru was quite sure, was what threw Makoto off during his race. There was no reason why he couldn't have made it to nationals, he was good enough. But Haru was off. And the codependent balance of their relationship said that when one of them was off, they both had to be. Which made the situation no better, and Haru was bitter with Rin for bringing it up as they walked through the tunnel for their own races.

"Looks like Makoto didn't make it to the finals."

"Yeah …" Haru mumbled, just to respond.

"Haru, have you made up your mind yet?"

Haru's shoulders immediately tensed, a tingle of anger rushed down his spine. This tunnel was too long.

"Not really," he said, the smallest bit of attitude jumping out in his tone.

"What do you mean, not really?" Rin snapped back, never one to back down when Haru became stubborn. He went on about the scouts, about getting calls, implying that this should have a significant impact on Haru's future and decision-making, but Haru tuned him out.

He stopped walking entirely, because he knew if he moved any farther forward with Rin and this conversation, something would break. He wasn't ready for that. He still had to pull it together for this stupid spectacle of a race, the one in which everyone would be watching him with a magnifying glass, holding their breaths as though this race was going to make all the decisions that Haru wasn't.

"Fine," Rin scoffed after peering at Haru for one weightless moment. He knew patience was a waste of time when Haru was a concern. So he walked away, leaving Haru were he stood, muttering that they'd talk after the race.

Rin had no idea. Rin didn't get a lick of what was happening, none of them did. The only person who understood was Makoto, and they couldn't even talk about it — couldn't talk about it because Haru was too scared to, because he couldn't face walking on a path that wasn't the same as Makoto's. Makoto was the only person who fully allowed Haru the opportunity to be himself, to be free. He didn't stop him; he didn't pressure him. Haru didn't even have to speak for Makoto to know what he needed. No one else was ever going to do that for him, they couldn't.

To talk to scouts would be like signing his soul away. No one should have access to his soul like that. His freedom, if it was going to stay with anyone, belonged in the hands of the one person who knew how to take care of it even better than he did. Soul, freedom, heart, they were all the same, all connected, and had already been gifted to Makoto a long time ago. He just didn't know it until now — until Makoto held it up in his own two hands and started asking Haru where they were going to put it.

His knees were shaking, but he took a step forward. He had to swim. So he left the tunnel and fell in line obediently, just to stand and watch Rin's race with little interest. The red-head won with ease. It was no surprise, and he was proud of himself for doing well … because the scouts were watching. Once he was out of the pool and passing Haru by, he gave the raven-haired swimmer a silent reminder via a curt nod of his head. He didn't know, but he was making it worse.

Haru stepped up on the starting block, and then just stood there. He raised his eyes to the stands and they immediately found all of the watching eyes, the ones that were staining his aura specifically. They didn't care about the other nameless swimmers who had probably worked much harder than Haru to get here. They wanted Nanase, the prodigy — the one spirit who couldn't stand to have his wings clipped. They had no idea.

A distant whistle snapped him to attention and he realized he was the only one not set. His body moved through the motion of crouching over, grabbing the edge of the block, setting his feet in a familiar position. But this was all very wrong, and he knew it, well before they were given the gun to start.

He reacted anyway. His muscles knew what to do when his ears heard the sound, and he jumped. Dove head first, slipped through the stream. But it wasn't right. He stroked, and kicked, and did everything he'd been doing since he was a toddler, but it was all wrong. The water was cold, and its embrace was far from friendly. It would not accept him and he already knew he wouldn't be able to argue with it. The water was not to be fought, but his body was already on autopilot, so he swam.

And then he could feel it, the force, the hands, the whatever it was snaking around his shoulders, around his legs, pulling, dragging, demanding that he drown. He panicked. His pulse was louder than it had ever been in his life, echoing through the belly of the pool with frantic vibrations. He gasped for air, tried to breathe, tried to steady himself, but the water couldn't be fought.

That something that he'd tiptoed around in the tunnel with Rin … it snapped, shattered to pieces, and he just stopped. His feet sank, his toes touched the bottom of the pool, right, then left. And it was over.

The water released its hold on him and the swimmers shot by in the other lanes. But he … He just stood there, stood in the middle of the pool letting the gazes and gasps of every onlooker roll off of his shoulders just like drops of water. He breathed in past his lips and turned his eyes up to the white lights high above his head. They were nothing like the sun.

"Haru … Haru … Haru!"

He blinked, realizing in just that second that his balance had wavered across an infinite moment in which time had passed already. He dropped his gaze. There were still one or two swimmers fighting for the finish line, but everyone else had made it.

"Haru!"

The voice skipped across the surface of the pool, echoing much louder in his ears this time, and because it registered as _that_ voice, he turned around.

Makoto caught his breath with both relief and distress when Haru acknowledged him. He was standing at the end of the pool over his lane, chest heaving as though he'd just been running, which had to have been the case, because Makoto was supposed to be in the stands. But he was there now, and he crouched down and reached out his hand, waving urgently for Haru to remove himself from the pool.

"Haru, come to me. Swim," he said desperately.

Haruka only just then noticed the heavy gloss in Makoto's eyes, the burn of a blush that was, not embarrassed, but strained with the effort of keeping his tears back. Had he made Makoto cry? That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Haru, please!" Makoto said, now completely distraught at Haru's lack of movement. He was the only one in the pool now, and some of the officials were starting to gather, all staring at him with concern. He even caught the movement of a medical assistant, migrating close and watching intently.

When his eyes met Makoto's again, they stared down the distance between them, and his heart picked up with a vengeance, throwing him head-first into his very first nightmare. Makoto was too far away, and his body wouldn't move. In fact, he refused to allow it. If he did, the water would disapprove. It would drag him down again.

He opened his mouth and did his best to catch a breath. "I can't … I can't reach you," he stammered.

It came out hardly louder than a whisper, and he knew it wasn't audible from this distance, but Makoto already understood. It didn't need to be repeated. He discarded the outer layers of his uniform and slipped into the pool. He kicked off the wall, swam gracefully but quickly over to where Haru stood, and stopped directly in front of him, his mouth set, jaw tight, eyes the gravest Haru had ever seen them.

He dipped, pulled Haru's arms over his shoulders, and hiked him onto his back all in one swift movement, then swam with the strength of a lifeguard back to the end of the pool. He paused at the edge, allowed one of the officials to lift Haru up by the arm, and held him securely from behind until he was standing on solid ground, then he climbed out behind him.

They were already asking him questions, poking at him, rushing forward with their medical kits only to find that he was unscathed and his body was holding him up just fine. They didn't know that a light had died behind his eyes.

He didn't acknowledge them, didn't answer them, didn't even wait for Makoto to finish grabbing his own clothes. Once a towel was draped over his shoulders, he just walked away and retreated to the locker rooms with Makoto calling to his back.

* * *

Rin was furious.

"Haru!"

Haru's lips twitched sourly, but that was all. He didn't acknowledge the call, nor did he blink when Rin stomped over to him and snatch at his arm.

"What do you think you're doing? Why the hell did you do that?" Rin demanded.

Haru's chest grew warm with a very unpleasant burn, but the words that left his lips were flat. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Like hell it doesn't! This was important, Haru. There were scouts watching!"

Haru's eyes pierced the floor. He refused to look up at Rin. His body stood stock still, but a vicious tremble started to shake his core. Rin was so oblivious, and he had no right to chastise Haru for reacting to something he didn't understand.

"Why should I care?" he mumbled.

This bothered his red-haired friend. A breath of surprise left his open mouth and his head jerked as though he'd been poked in the nose and was offended by it. Had Rin seriously never considered that Haru didn't care about scouts?

"What about scouts watching me swim means I should care?" Haru continued. "So I can set records in front of a crowd? None of that is what I swim for," he said lifting his eyes threateningly to a flabbergasted Rin.

His red eyes glimmered with astonishment. Had they really never had this conversation? He was that surprised? And none if it had anything to do with Rin anyway, just because he wanted to be seen by scouts, so that meant Haru needed to want that too? That was not what he swam for at all, and he was offended Rin would think so little of him.

"Then what do you swim for?" Rin demanded, gathering his composure and adopting a soft scowl.

"I swim for myself and for my friends," Haru shot back. There was more to it than that. There was so much more to it than that, but Rin would never understand that.

"Then swim for those friends," he said. "And for your own sake. Do you not understand that what you do out there is going to impact your future?" he insisted, now snatching Haru's other arm. Unbeknownst to him, this just made Haru's blood boil. "Don't you have a dream? Take this more seriously! I know you could —"

Haru slammed a fist against the lockers behind him. It was loud, and he was grateful. He was so suddenly angry, it was the only way he could get Rin to stop. It stung his hand, and his arms were trembling, but he refused to let this go on. Why didn't these people understand that he didn't want to hear it? He didn't need them to pester him about the future, about dreams. They had no idea what he wanted, they just wanted him to be impressive. They just wanted him to swim for their own selfish reasons.

"You're the one who doesn't understand!" he shouted, finally unlocking his teeth. "What dream? What future? It's you who cares about all of that! I'm not you. I don't have any of that!"

He was going to say more, because his rage was obsessed with the look on Rin's face, and he wanted to keep drilling it in, to really make sure he got the point. He didn't want to hear this again, not for a second. But his throat closed when he knew his next words would betray so many things about himself that he didn't want to share with Rin. Because Matsuoka didn't know that he was afraid. He didn't know that Haru was too paralyzed to do what everyone expected of him and make any decisions. And the very last thing Rin needed to know was that this had all become so overwhelming because of much too embarrassing feelings he had for his best friend. They wouldn't discuss that. It would just reveal how truly pathetic he was.

So he turned away from Rin, left him there the way Rin had left him in the tunnel. And when he looked up from the floor, his heart stopped at the three sets of eyes glittering with grief in the doorway.

His gaze automatically shot to Makoto, but he forced it to turn away just as quickly and focused on Rei and Nagisa instead, both of whom were staring with wide glossy eyes, their mouths agape. It was well hidden, so he almost didn't catch it, but they were also standing very close to one another and Rei had a fist clutched around the waist of Nagisa's jacket. Why this was so significant, Haru didn't know, but it hurt his heart even more.

He pulled in a breath to calm himself, and forced his expression to adopt its normal countenance, making sure his eyes remained steady and firm.

"This doesn't change anything," he said to his teammates, reading the fear in each one of them. "I'll swim the relay with you. That's what I've come this far for."

They still appeared too shocked to respond. He wasn't sure how much they trusted his resilience about that, but he needed them to know he wasn't going to abandon them for this. So maybe he couldn't swim for himself right now. But he would swim for his friends without question, each and every time. He had promised himself that, and they were counting on him.

It was Nagisa who took the first hesitant breath. "Haru …" he began, his voice wavering.

Haru didn't miss the lack of a –chan or the tone of his voice that suggested he was very aware that certain things had begun to plague Haru's mind, but they couldn't talk about it now.

"Nagisa," Haru said, focusing his eyes on him, hoping that he, to some capacity, could read his silent gaze the way Makoto usually did. "Isn't your race next?"

Nagisa's lips trembled, but he closed his mouth and nodded.

"Then do your best," Haru said. "Don't let me stop you." He turned his eyes to Rei and added, "The same goes for you, understand?"

Rei's brow dipped in the middle, but he nodded, ever-so gently tugging at Nagisa. "Yes, Haruka-senpai."

"Then get going."

Rei's chest expanded with a silent breath. His hands shifted to Nagisa's shoulders and he guided him away, pushing him down the hallway as Nagisa stared at the floor. Haru made his way in the opposite direction, back toward the stands, saying nothing to Rin who still lingered in the locker room in a cold silence. Makoto's steady footsteps followed not too far behind Haru, and for a while, they trekked through the long hallway in silence.

But Haru wasn't at all oblivious to the way the atmosphere turned stale behind his back. He could feel Makoto tensing, could feel Makoto battling his inability to keep it all to himself, not wanting to be a bother, but just about as overwhelmed as Haru had been. Haruka felt only a little better now, because yelling at Rin had been rather relieving. He wasn't pacified by any means, but he'd been able to express his anger at least a little bit, and now hopefully, one of the too many people bothering him about the future would stop.

He rubbed at the side of his fist, flesh still stinging from how forcefully he'd hit the lockers. The footsteps stopped behind him. Haru turned, at first just to look over his shoulder, but then he saw Makoto's face, and he stopped too.

His throat closed.

Despite the tears cascading down Makoto's cheeks and dripping to the floor, the green-eyed swimmer still managed to sense Haru's hesitation and bothered to slide his hands over his face to hide it, dipping his head with trembling shoulders. It didn't stop the fact that he was crying, but he did everything he could not to let it all go, even though he clearly looked like a shaken soda ready to pop, but he kept it bottled for Haru's sake. And Haruka didn't know how this made him feel as he stood and watched.

He was familiar with Makoto's tears, but not on this level. Makoto normally didn't allow himself to get this worked up about anything. If he ever cried anymore, it was usually just a silent loss of a few stubborn tears that he'd wipe away quickly before forcing himself to smile. This was not that, and in fact, he was really struggling not to break down sobbing. Haru could hear the broken gasps muffled by his palms, interrupted by small shuddering whimpers that he clipped short, trying to stay as silent about it as possible.

And so there it was, this lumbering giant trembling with grief in the middle of the empty hallway because he was much too sensitive to how others felt.

Just like that night when they were seven, Haru didn't know why he simply stood there and watched his best friend cry, knowing that this time, he was the cause of so many tears, and also the very reason Makoto wouldn't allow himself to just let go. He hadn't thought about it until now, but maybe he should have considered how Makoto might have felt as he called out to Haru from the edge of the pool. Maybe he should have considered what might have been going through his mind when he had to swim out into the open to get him. They'd been in a stadium full of people after all, the focus of everyone's attention as, for that short moment, they were the only two people in the pool in the midst of quite an obvious crisis. But Makoto had disregarded all of that and allowed the unwanted attention to crawl onto his shoulders just as he bore Haru's weight on his back and saved him from himself.

Haru's heart trembled, but he closed the gap between them and, after staring guiltily for just a moment longer, he slowly lifted his hand and closed his fingers around one of Makoto's wrists. He gently pulled his hand away from hiding his face, but Makoto turned his head away and used his free hand to wipe his tears immediately. Haru frowned.

"I'm sorry, Haru," Makoto said, voice warbled. And Haru knew he was apologizing for way too many things at once. Though he kept wiping at his eyes, the rush of tears only seemed to intensify, and Haru could feel Makoto's muscles tensing under his grip. "I made you worry about all of this stuff. I didn't mean to upset you —"

"Makoto," Haru said sternly, very unwilling to hear the rest of it. They knew this wasn't Makoto's fault. "I couldn't swim for them, and so I didn't. It had nothing to do with you."

That was a little less true, but Makoto had to know what he meant. There was no reason for him to feel guilty. But when his troubled green eyes turned to look into Haru's blue ones, it was very clear that he knew just how much he was involved in Haru being overwhelmed.

"I don't want you to blame yourself," Haru stated.

Makoto's lip trembled. "You yelled at Rin."

"He'll be fine."

"You scared Rei and Nagisa, Haru."

Haru pressed his lips together, forcing himself to catch a breath.

"You scared all of us," Makoto said, his voice dipping into a sob. "Why did you stop swimming? Why couldn't you get out of the pool?"

"I don't know."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Why is that the first thing you think of?" Haru asked desperately, his grip tightening. "Why do you automatically think it's a fault of yours? I got overwhelmed, Makoto. I've been having bad dreams. The scouts were too much pressure. Everyone wanted me to swim the way they wanted me to swim. It was too much. I couldn't do it. But I'm okay now. I'm going to swim with the rest of you, and we're going to win the relay —"

"I don't care about the relay!" Makoto burst, his eyes swimming, hitting Haru much too passionately. "I care about _you_. You've never acted like this before. You've never stopped swimming in the middle of a race. I've never had to come _into_ the pool to get you!"

Haru couldn't stop his expression from bending with pain. He normally did everything he could to stop it from getting to that point. He didn't usually have to worry about it so much, but Makoto was breaking his heart. Every tear stung his soul like acid. This wasn't supposed to be happening like this. At what point had they managed to drift so far off into the deep-end of this relationship without even realizing it?

Makoto was normally the one who felt guilty about everything, but in this moment it was weighing very heavily on Haru's heart too, and he couldn't handle it.

"Makoto," he snapped, so sternly that Makoto hiccuped and his sobbing stopped.

His wet green eyes gazed at Haru with a mix of awe and trepidation. Haru had to force in a breath.

"No more crying," he said, his voice low.

Makoto stared, gaze hazing over as they shared the same thought. His shoulders settled. He slowly straightened his back. He wiped at his chin to clear away some of the tears. Haru released his wrist and helped him, brushing his palms across his cheeks. His fingers slid out to grip the sides of Makoto's face and he pulled him closer, staring firmly into his eyes.

"No more crying," he repeated.

Makoto stared back. He released a quiet exhale and nodded. "Okay."

Haru let his hands slide away and took a step back. "You're brave."

Makoto's lips trembled, but he pressed them tight to stop it and nodded again. "Okay."

"We're going to watch Nagisa and Rei, and then we're going to swim. And we're going to win this relay, do you understand?"

Makoto gave a resolute nod, tears now dry. Their stomachs were still turning, both of them. But they had to push past this, Haru wouldn't get stuck in it this time, and he wouldn't drag Makoto down with him.

"Let's go," he said, turning and leading the way back to the stands. Makoto followed.


	11. Chapter 11

Several weeks passed, but he didn't feel any better. In fact, something about all of this seemed to slowly solidify in his stomach like a rock, and he was constantly nauseous. His natural response was to swim more, so he stopped walking home with Makoto in favor of staying late after practice.

He knew Makoto was bothered by this. And he wasn't exactly a fan of finding his own way home, but after rehearsing such a task while Makoto had done his volunteering job, he felt he was a little better at stomaching the act. He wanted to be with Makoto, but there was a strain between them. He couldn't name it. He didn't know how to make sense of it, but it was insistent, and he didn't like it. Makoto was holding onto something that was making Haru uneasy, he just couldn't tell what it was. Every time they were around each other now, he just got this ominous feeling that something was going to happen to them. And it made him feel worse, because he still felt guilty about making Makoto cry.

They'd won the relay — which was great of course — but that feeling of elation didn't stay with him long at all. In fact, by the time they had left regionals that night, it was already gone. He wanted to do well at nationals, and so he tried to focus as much as he could on that, because he didn't want to let his team down … He didn't want to let Makoto down. But it was hard to swim that way.

He was used to swimming because he wanted to swim, the way he wanted to swim. But ever since the water had so viciously refused to let him move forward, he was afraid to bother it. He was afraid to swim freestyle, because whenever he tried, he was just transported back to his dream — the one in which he couldn't reach Makoto. And the more he faced that dream, the longer that distance stretched out between them, but it wasn't just the dream. It was happening in real life too, but neither of them were saying anything about it.

So when everyone left practice and allowed him to stay behind, he'd wait until they were most assuredly gone and just stop swimming altogether. He just floated most times, staring up into the sky, grateful for the water's support, but too anxious to ask anything of it.

He also thought about his argument with Rin a lot, which was annoying. They hadn't talked to each other about it either. Haru knew they'd be okay, that their relationship wouldn't form any new rifts between them, but he was bothered by the fact that Makoto had been right about how Rin could get him to react to things the way no one else could. He didn't mind yelling at Rin, but the way that his three friends had looked at him afterward was bothersome. And he was slightly upset that he couldn't have the same kind of blunt discussions with Makoto. He didn't want to argue with him, never wanted to argue with him. But they read each other's minds so much that sometimes there were things that just never made it out into the open, and Haru felt like they were both holding onto a few too many of those things right now.

He wanted to have a conversation with Makoto like Nagisa had suggested, but he didn't know how to. And he almost didn't want to know what it was that Makoto was harboring. Didn't want to know, because in a way, he felt like he already did.

They had a chance, several weeks after the whole regionals incident, when they'd bumped into each other on their way home. Makoto was supposed to have been long gone at that point, but he'd brushed off his excuse for sticking around the very same way he'd brushed off being late for practice. And Haru knew something was most definitely up at that point. Being too upset by it, he hadn't allowed Makoto to talk when he tried to bring up post-graduation stuff again, and thankfully, Ren and Ran had cut him off before he could insist on it.

And Haru thought about it the whole while he drifted on his back the day before the Obon Festival. He listened intently to the sound of himself breathing, to the pace of his heartbeat, which was slow but bothered. He watched pink clouds float across an orange sky and frowned to himself.

Makoto had up and screamed in Haru's face that he cared about him, and Haru had been able to hear in his voice just how much he meant it. But he couldn't recall ever saying anything similar to Makoto. They'd never talked about it. It was one of those things that was understood, but … He wasn't sure Makoto knew. Haru was so bad at expressing it. Makoto couldn't have known at this point how much Haru truly cared about him too. If he did, would they be going through all of this right now? Would it still be a tense back and forth between them trying to figure out why the other wasn't happy? Might they have sat down together by now to figure out just exactly what to do after graduation so that they wouldn't have to be apart? Could they have come up with a dream together? A future together?

Haru heard his heart skip with a painful beat. He grimaced, allowing himself to do so only because he was alone.

"I can't reach you," he whispered to the sky.

* * *

"Aww, we should have brought lanterns too," Nagisa said, frowning with longing at the families that were lighting and sending their toro nagashi down the river.

"Well, we didn't," Rei sighed, pushing up his glasses, allowing Nagisa to swing their hands between them. Haru wondered if Rei was even aware Nagisa was holding his hand, he hadn't said anything about it. "Just be glad you get to take it all in. It's beautiful."

"Yeah … When are they going to light the fireworks?"

"Soon enough. It's already dark out. It won't be much longer."

"We should go get takoyaki after this."

"You just had four mitarashi sticks on the way over here," Rei moaned. "You are the most gluttonous person I've ever met. I don't know where you put it."

"You don't need to worry about where I put it. I'll buy some for you too."

"I don't need you to buy anything for me."

"But Rei-chaaaan, I _want_ to."

"What if I'm not hungry?"

"You eat like a bird. I don't understand why you wouldn't be. Look at your stomach, it's all muscle."

Nagisa poked at Rei's side and he flinched away, cheeks burning.

"Stop it."

"What are you going to do when winter comes around? You'll freeze."

"I'm not a bear. Stop poking me!" Rei leaned away and tried to pull his hand free of Nagisa's but the little blonde only gripped him tighter with a devilish grin.

"Is Rei-chan ticklish?"

Nagisa yanked him close and started searching his ribs with wiggling fingers and Rei squirmed, his cheeks bright, lips trembling. He tried to run away. At this point Makoto and Haru had to stop walking so they wouldn't lose them.

"Nagisa, stop!" Rei yelped, trying to sound chiding while being interrupted by coughs of laughter.

"Tickle Me Rei! Tickle Me Rei!" Nagisa sang, sticking close to Rei's side.

They ran around each other in a circle, Nagisa's fingers locked between Rei's to keep him from getting away as Rei pleaded. But he eventually seized with laughter and the force of their tugging whiplashed them both into the sand. Nagisa wrestled Rei's shoulders down and dug his fingers under his arms.

"Stop!" Rei cried, knees kicking. "Nagisa!"

A few families turned their heads, amused. Children pointed and snickered. Even Makoto giggled to himself. Haru, on the other hand, started to recognize the breath of jealousy twisting in his lungs. It wasn't Nagisa. It wasn't Rei. It was Nagisa _and_ Rei, both of them together, so full of some carefree resistance to drama. They bantered often, but it was always harmless. Nagisa never took anything too seriously, and Rei turned into putty around him, Haru was sure he didn't even recognize it in himself. They always got along. They cared about each other, and even though they needed few words to make that known, Nagisa wasn't at all embarrassed to let anyone who would hear him know how much he adored Rei. Rei didn't have to respond to it, the blush in his cheeks was always enough. They were … endearing. And Haru hated that — because he knew he could never be endearing.

He didn't have the kind of courage Nagisa had to just up and declare a life's purpose of getting someone to fall in love with him. He didn't understand "hope" in that context. He wasn't even good at expressing how he felt. At least Rei knew how to counterbalance everything Nagisa threw at him. At least he knew how to be kind, and expressive, and protect Nagisa directly. Haru wasn't sure he could pull off even that much. The more he felt for Makoto, the worse off their relationship seemed to get. And though Makoto stuck loyally to his side, Haru knew he'd been making his best friend miserable for years. He wanted what Rei and Nagisa had, even if just a little bit.

His lips twitched and he glanced to his right out of the corner of his eyes.

Makoto was still smiling, still watching them. His green eyes reflecting the glowing shoreline, a distant tension to them that no one else but Haru would be able to see. Makoto shook his head and clapped his hands to get the other two's attention.

"Alright, you two. Enough. Save it for later … when you're alone," he added with a teasing smirk.

Nagisa popped up with an excited smile. "Good idea, Mako-chan."

Rei huffed, legs stretched out as he sat up in the sand. "Don't encourage him," he said to Makoto, who chuckled in response.

"Don't pretend like you don't want to, Rei-chan." Nagisa winked and offered his hand.

Rei rolled his eyes, but took it and allowed Nagisa to pull him to his feet. He brushed the sand from his person and gave a dignified sniff. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Hazuki."

Nagisa giggled. "Please, call me Nagisa," he said, dipping into a cordial bow.

Rei shook his head, as though declaring that he wouldn't play along, but tenderly pushed Nagisa's head to the side and walked past him. "Are we going to find a place to watch the fireworks, or what?"

The four of them began to walk again, picking their way along the beach. Haru tried not to be too in his head about the anxiety dragging his feet through the sand. Nagisa and Rei weren't even a real thing. There was no reason to be envious of them.

He glanced back over his shoulder to find that they were still dragging behind, and this time Nagisa had one hand on Rei's shoulder, the other hiding his mouth as he walked on his toes and whispered into Rei's ear. Haru rolled the inside of his lip through his teeth.

Rei was leaning over compliantly, absorbing everything Nagisa had to say. He nodded, then muttered something in return, which Nagisa nodded to as well. Haru scrunched up his nose and looked away.

They eventually picked a spot, and hadn't stopped for more than ten seconds before Nagisa took in a courageous breath.

"Hey, Haru-chan?"

Haru glanced at him. The smile and laughter had gone from his face and all that was left was a resolute seriousness that wasn't normally like him. He'd resolved to say something, and it was going to be something Haru didn't want to hear. He curled his fists.

"What?"

Nagisa turned his eyes on him, brow bending with a little touch of earnest. "Before we swim at nationals, there's something we want to say. Because I get the feeling we won't truly be a team unless we do…"

Rei stepped up to frame Nagisa's back, supporting everything Nagisa wanted to talk about with just this one action. Haru's eyes lifted to him, a bit unnerved that they had conversed with one another in private about addressing Haru together.

"Haruka-senpai," Rei said, his voice steady. "Both Nagisa-kun and I have admired your swimming for a long time. Watching the way you swim, so free and unbound by anything, I found myself wishing I could swim that way as well. But now that you no longer swim freestyle, your swimming just isn't like you anymore. We want you to swim in front of more people from all around the world. And if they're able to see your swimming and be moved like us, and wish they could swim like you too … I couldn't imagine anything more wonderful."

Haru's eyes had already found the ground in the midst of this. He heard what Rei was saying, but the words passed over his head like the breeze slipping through his hair. Nagisa and Rei, at this point, hadn't been part of the crowd demanding that Haru do something with his life, and he would have much preferred that it stay that way.

He didn't feel angry, the way he had with Rin. Instead, he felt overcome by an exhaustion that made his arms heavy. His gaze shifted when he caught the movement of Nagisa's hand absently reaching back for Rei's again. And Rei took it without argument, without even acknowledging the act. It was just normal. It was just a thing that happened now.

Haru's lips twitched. "I just don't get it," he said, turning away before anyone else could say another word to him.

It wasn't Rei's words that he thought about as he climbed the stairs to the overlook, far up and away from everyone else. It was his frustration with himself for not understanding how Nagisa had actually succeeded at his life's purpose already. It was supposed to have been a joke. Nagisa didn't take things like that to heart — he hardly took anything to heart. It was all with a grain of salt to him, all with a smile, all with a glass half-full perspective. And yet, somehow, he had this inherent gift to make things happen exactly the way he wanted them to, and Haru didn't understand. He couldn't do that too? He was pulling teeth just to get everyone to stop bothering him about the future, just to get Makoto to admit how he was truly feeling, just to get himself to quit thinking about it all, and it felt like running through water — working twice as hard, but getting nowhere. Meanwhile, Nagisa went and declared that he'd get a whole other human being to fall in love with him and had done exactly that within the span of just a few months.

Haru had years. Something around fifteen or sixteen of them, and he and Makoto were still in the same place. In fact, they'd somehow managed to take several steps backward. And okay, he admitted he was at fault for most, if not all, of the reasons behind that, but that was exactly the point. He sucked.

He leaned his arms over the rail and stared into the glittering water below. Then he waited, because he knew there was no way Makoto would let him just walk away like that without showing up at some point. He was smart enough to give Haru a moment, but also wise enough not to make it too long. So it was about ten minutes, before Haru heard his steady footsteps coming to get him, and he tried to prepare himself.

"I thought you'd be here," said that pleasant voice, drifting over to stand by Haru's side.

Haruka didn't acknowledge him.

"Haru," Makoto said softly. "I don't think you can go on like this either."

Haru wrinkled his nose to himself. He didn't respond, but he thought it hypocritical of Makoto to call out his behavior, when only a few months before this moment, Haru had tried to do the same for Makoto and received nothing in return. So maybe Makoto was more gentle with these kinds of things, but the principal of the matter was still the same.

"It isn't just about your swimming," Makoto continued. "You're not yourself. You're usually very direct about what you want, and you've always intentionally kept everything so simple. But this … this has become something complicated, and I worry that it's damaging you."

Haru tightened his lips and lowered his hunch.

"I didn't want to pressure you about finding a dream or thinking too hard about your future, because I know you like to let things come to you. And I figured you'd be happier doing things your own way, but … you're not."

"Who says I'm not?" Haru grumbled, turning his eyes away. He didn't expect Makoto to buy it, and in fact, he didn't want him to. He just wanted to be spiteful.

Makoto could sense this, and he sighed as his shoulders dropped. "Haru … Remember what you said to Rin at regionals? If you truly want to stay as you are, I won't say anything. But if it's just that you can't find a dream for yourself, I would want you to find one."

Makoto turned as he said this, squaring his shoulders toward his best friend, still as gentle and patient as ever, but Haru's blood began to simmer all the same. He thought back to the night Makoto had very much insinuated that things needed to change if they wanted their relationship to go somewhere, but Haru didn't understand that logic. And he didn't like the way Makoto was encouraging him to find a dream on his own, like that was something he could do without him — like that was something he could _do_ at all.

He scoffed. "You want me to find one?" he said, turning to face Makoto as well. "Is that something you can find just by deciding to find one?"

It wasn't nice, the way it came out of his mouth. But he didn't take it back, and he locked onto Makoto's gaze with unsmiling eyes. Makoto didn't say anything at first, just stared back, his eyes burrowing into Haru's soul with pity that Haru didn't want to see.

"You're telling me I need to do this by myself? That I should go on a scavenger hunt, looking for the right dream? Is it hiding under a rock somewhere that I don't know about?"

"Haru —"

"If you knew it was out there, you should have drawn a map for me. I could have gone and dug it up a long time ago, then we wouldn't have to do this right now."

Makoto's lips trembled. "Haru, you're being mean."

"Sorry," he said, his voice cold. "I'll try to consider that next time."

"Next time?" Makoto's face pulled. "Next time? What next time? There is no next time. You can't keep brushing this off. If there's always going to be a next time, then you're never going to find the answers you're looking for."

"You say that like I'm in this by myself," Haru shot back, brow bending with an accusatory glare.

Makoto hesitated. Something glimmered behind his eyes, and it wasn't a very promising something. He looked away and opened his mouth, but Haru didn't want to hear it.

"Forget it," he said, beginning to walk past. "I'm done talking about this."

Makoto's hand shot out and snatched his wrist. "Wait."

Haru whirled around, thoroughly offended. "Let go!"

"Listen to me!" Makoto begged. His grip was urgent, but his eyes were still so annoyingly soft and full of pleading that it turned Haru's stomach.

"Why? However many times I listen, it's the same," Haru snapped. "You can't find a dream just by looking for one!"

"You haven't _been_ listening to anyone," Makoto said, aghast. "How many times have I tried to have this conversation with you? All you've been doing is brushing me off!"

"Because I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it! I'm fine with the way things are, Makoto."

"You're lying!" Makoto said, finally raising his voice with an alarming resistance. It wasn't like him to fight this hard to get a word out, and Haru couldn't say he was a fan. "I know you better than that, Haruka. The truth is, you want to find a dream too. You _should_ find that dream, and should use it to take flight into the outside world." His grip tightened on Haru's wrist with insistence. "You have the ability to do that!"

Haru's chest hit a speed bump. It felt like getting punched flat in the sternum, and his eyes widened, because he couldn't believe Makoto was trying to encourage him to find a dream based off of his abilities. Makoto, of all people was supposed to understand, was supposed to let Haru be Haru and be by his side all the way. Makoto was never insistent like this, he never put pressure. Why was he pushing him? Why did it feel like he was _trying_ to get Haru to make a decision without him?

"Even you're talking about this? Where I swim and who I swim for … I'm free to decide that for myself! This isn't even about that! For what reason would I want to find a dream without you? Why are you pushing me? I told you I'm fine with how things are, with the way _we_ are. Why does everything around us have to change?"

"Because you're not fine!" Makoto screamed, yanking on Haru's arm. " _We're_ not fine! Look at what's been happening! How could we stay the same and be okay? We haven't been able to talk for weeks! And what about regionals? What about the complete meltdown you had, Haru? You can brush it off and say you just stopped because you didn't want to swim, but we both know that's not what happened! You're falling apart, Haruka, and I can't watch!" His voice cracked with this, the emotion swelling like a tide Haru could see with his own two eyes. Makoto's body was planted firmly, but his entire aura was trembling with grief.

"No one can," he continued. "That's why we're all telling you this! Nagisa, and Rei, and Rin, and me …" His voice trembled as he gasped for a breath, eyes shining. "It's because we all love you, because we care about you." Both declarations dimmed with tenderness at the end. He didn't meet Haru's gaze as he said this, but Haru could tell that even though he was declaring this on everyone's behalf, the kind of love and care that came from him was different from everyone else's.

Something flared up in him suddenly and he grimaced, squeezing Haru's wrist. "Why can't you understand that? We want you to find your dream, to look to the future …"

Haru gritted his teeth and shoved Makoto backward in his rage, because he was still talking about the wrong thing.

"All you ever do is meddle with everyone! But when someone tries to get the truth out of you, you just smile and pretend everything is okay! This isn't just about me! Where's your dream? Where's your future? Don't push me to go off into the wilderness to find my own dream, when you haven't even found one for yourself! Why don't _you_ make a decision!"

A wall of silence formed between them. Makoto just stared, mouth slightly agape, eyes still shining on Haru with pity, with sadness. All that could be heard was Haru's labored breathing, because he'd been ignoring his lungs this entire time. But it all rushed to him now, flushed his skin, made him sickeningly hot and uncomfortable. His heart was in his ears and he hated how hard it was beating for Makoto, like it was trying to climb out of his body to reach him.

Makoto's hesitation was taking too long, it rattled Haru's nerves.

"Say something," Haru demanded.

He didn't, not at first. Instead, his fingers slowly unfurled from Haru's wrist, and he dropped his arm by his side. Haru stared at the back of his hand, brow furrowed, because Makoto suddenly releasing his hold seemed eerily significant. Haru almost told him not to let go, in fact, and didn't understand why he did.

"I _have_ decided."

Haru looked up. He hadn't heard those words right. Surely he hadn't heard those words right. But Makoto's gaze was grim and unwavering as he looked directly into Haru's eyes.

"I'm … going to a university in Tokyo."

The whistle of fireworks started and exploded with bursting colors of light over their heads. He could feel the bass of each one shaking his very core, but they sounded so far off. His ears were ringing.

His heart had just erupted — so quietly and so suddenly that all he felt was ruthless shock. He knew his eyes were wide, knew his jaw had come unhinged, but he'd never told his face to do either of those things. He tried to breathe. His lungs wouldn't listen. All he was aware of was the shattering of something extremely precious to him. His dream … His dream … His dream that he had never decided on, only because he'd never wanted to voice it out loud. Makoto — his best friend, his best everything, the only person he'd wanted to be with after all of this — he broke it, snapped it in half like a twig between his fingers and Haru just watched it happen.

"I meant to tell you sooner," Makoto said, lowering his voice to the ground, "but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't want to make it real just yet, because I knew …" He glanced up, his statement dying on his tongue. He saw Haru's face, and the crease of concern came to his brow.

"Haru-chan, I don't want to leave you. You're not the only one who needed to make a decision. I don't have the same abilities as you, and I knew this could only last for so long. We just can't stay here our whole lives. High school is going to end whether we want it to or not, and … I think I found something that I enjoy doing. I want to try to pursue it."

He stopped talking, eyes trailing the ground again, this time with guilt, because he already knew what he had just done. There was silence again, a much heavier one this time, and when Makoto finally looked up again, Haru felt a tingling flush of panic burn its way through his skin.

"I —"

"Do whatever you want!" Haru screamed. And then he ran, because he knew if he stayed, he'd destroy them both.

"Haru!"

Haru dipped his head, deflecting Makoto's voice. The one that was so familiar to him, filled with so much concern, so much compassion, so much pleading that it cut his heart open until it gushed, flooding his insides, drowning him from the inside out. He nearly tripped down the first flight of stairs, but somehow managed to keep himself upright just by refusing to stop. His side knocked into the rail and threw him back into balance, and he found himself doubling over, clutching at his waist as he stumbled frantically forward.

He didn't know what hurt the most — the throbbing in his ribs, the ache of his lungs, his dying heart? He could hear it, pulse fighting for life, but losing that fight to instead fade into the cold that spread from his fingertips.

"Don't die," he gasped. "Don't die." He tripped over the last step, fingers this time skimming the ground as he fumbled to regain his balance. He had to get home … as fast as he could, he'd collapse if he didn't, he knew it.

He didn't run across Rei or Nagisa and he was glad, because his eyes were burning, and if he was stopped, it'd all fall apart. He had to force his mind to think of nothing but the rush of wind stinging his skin, of his labored breathing, of the rumble of fireworks fading away in the distance. He'd never run so fast for so long in his life, and by the time he scrambled up the stone steps and slammed the door to his house, his legs were shaking, his throat raw, sucking wind like it had never learned how to breathe before.

He climbed up the steps, stumbled into his room and collapsed to his knees on the floor, forehead dropping heavily onto the wood. He tried to catch his breath, tried to control his shaking, refused to let the burning blur spread across his eyes and take over. He never cried, and he wouldn't allow this moment to be the exception, he didn't care what the circumstances were.

But though he made that resolution, it didn't stop the trembling in his voice as he moaned with pain and covered his head, fingers tightly gripping his hair.

Why would he do this? Why would he not say anything?

Haru had been afraid of it. He'd been wary of that ominous pit in his gut that told him Makoto wasn't going to be there forever. But the very last thing he would have expected was for Makoto, of all people — the guy who doted on him, and made sure he got to school every morning, and dried his hair for him, and fussed at him about eating right and wearing a jacket and being polite, that guy, the one that had been suctioned to his side like a squid for years, the one that practically licked all of his wounds, that guy, _Makoto_ — he had just thrust a fist into Haru's chest and ripped his heart clean out of it.

Haru had plenty of enemies, there were a countless number of people who turned their noses up at him and bluntly declared that they didn't care for him, didn't like him. But the level of betrayal had never … _never_ effected him this deeply.

Why would Makoto leave? Why would Makoto go away? Why would Makoto not tell him about any of it? Why had he been keeping this a secret? Did he not understand that Haru had been waiting to make those decisions with him? Wherever he went, whatever he swam for, he didn't care. If Makoto could always be there to lift him out of the pool, that was enough. That was all that he wanted. Why did that have to be taken from him?

"I fucking love you!" he screamed into the floor, beating his fists against the wood until the physical pain matched what was happening in his chest. "You were supposed to love me back! You were supposed to stay! Goddamn you!"

His eyes were wet, but he didn't cry. He fought that harder than anything. He was too angry anyway, too out of breath, too light headed, and now his hands were throbbing. His heartbeat was everywhere. It had taken over the entirety of his body, everything pulsed, everything bled.

"Makoto," he moaned, pulling on his hair, rocking forward as he somehow tried to press his forehead closer to the floor. "Why …" He shook his head, throat closing. "Why?"

It lasted like this for a while. And every few minutes, it would become too overwhelming and he'd throw another fit, but mostly he lamented, just tried to catch his breath, just moaned and rocked, until — however long later — he just lay there, resting on his side with his cheek pressed to the floor. He stared with an unfocused gaze through the shadows of his room, seeing nothing except his twitching fingers every now and then as his arm lay stretched out in front of him.

There was blood on his hands. It wasn't bad but it was also smeared across the floor now. He didn't bother to inspect the source, or to clean it up even. He instead tried to narrow his focus on the heavy pulse in his hands, on the burn. He'd rather have the physical pain, much rather have the physical pain, than drown in the rejection with his dying heart.

It was a long time before he moved at all, and when he did, it wasn't with much thought. He found himself reaching for his phone and dialed the number he almost never called. It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and then his mother's voice recited the invitation to leave a voicemail and his everything sank. He listened to the beep and let the phone record his silence before it hung up for him and he let go of the phone.

It dropped with a thud onto the floor. The pain drove itself so much deeper that he started not to feel it anymore … and he was grateful. He welcomed the numbness. He needed it.

"Okaa-san," his tired voice said, barely lifting from the floor. "I don't feel good."

_What's the matter, musuko?_ he imagined his mother saying, brushing back his hair if she could.

"Makoto," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We had a fight."

_About what, my love?_

"He's going to leave me." He grimaced. "He's going to leave me … just like you did."

He closed his eyes and turned his face into the floor, brushing the tender voice away. He breathed in deeply several times, and then rolled onto his stomach and forced his arms to push him to his knees. Again with his forehead to the floor, he reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, then crawled out of his pants as he slowly dragged his body up onto his bed. He wormed his way underneath his blanket, wrapping it tightly around himself so that it was covering everything except the top of his hair, then he curled into a ball and didn't move for the next sixteen hours.


	12. Chapter 12

He was awake well before the doorbell started ringing at God-only-knew what time in the afternoon the next day. But he hadn't put a single muscle in motion at that point, and he was still very unwilling to. So he ignored it for the longest time.

Though his first heart-stopping thought was that Makoto was coming to apologize, the flighty hope it caused died within the very next second, because Makoto wouldn't ring the doorbell like that. He'd just walk in. Haru had been hoping he'd do that, for several hours in fact. Every waking moment between drifting in and out of sleep, he'd hoped that the next noise he heard would be of Makoto's steady footsteps walking up the stairs. He'd hoped that, at any moment, he'd feel strong, affectionate arms closing around his back and a tender hand stroking his hair. But it never happened. And though he wanted to be bitter about it, all it did was drive the numbness deeper.

The ringing was incessant though, and he cursed whoever it was under his breath. Didn't they know he was in the middle of a breakdown? He didn't care who it was, whether they knew him or not, they ought to know. They ought to read the situation through his refusal to answer the door and just leave him alone to waste away.

But they didn't. And the ringing touched a dormant nerve in him somewhere. He groaned, tossed his blanket back, begrudgingly pulled on some clothes, and drifted down the stairs. He opened the door, and the blinding sunlight immediately gave him a migraine. He frowned and rubbed at his eyes.

"Who is it," he grumbled, not at all nicely.

His eyes adjusted and he blinked, taken aback by Rin's presence, standing on his stoop in a cap with a travel bag at his feet.

"Rin?"

"Haru, we're going out," Rin announced, picking his bag up and swinging it over his shoulder. "Get your stuff."

Haru coughed with surprised. His brow furrowed. "Go? Where?"

"Australia of course," Rin said, as though everyone and their mother should know this by now.

Haru stared, mouth open.

Rin raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, come on," he insisted, glancing at his watch. "We don't have all the time in the world, you know."

Haru huffed, shoulders sagging. "Rin —"

"Jesus, Haru. Are you going to make me come in there and pack your bags myself?"

"Why are we going to Australia?" Haru argued. "No. What the hell is wrong with you?"

He began to slide the door closed, but Rin stuck his foot out and grabbed the wood between Haru's hands. He grinned.

"Nanase, I'm not the one with the problem. I suggest you get your ass moving and grab your stuff. You have a passport, right?"

"Rin," Haru said, locking his jaw. He leaned his face close to convey how very serious he was about not going through this right now. "I am in not in the mood for this, do you understand?"

Rin rolled his eyes. "When are you ever?"

"It has been a _very_ long night, okay? We're not doing this now. I'm not going anywhere with you. You're going to get off my stoop, and I'm going to go back to bed. Goodbye."

Rin let out an obnoxious groaning sigh, and then shoved Haru's chest with his fingertips and pushed his way into the house.

"What the hell?!"

"Where's your passport?" Rin said, climbing up the stairs.

"Rin!"

"We can keep doing this the hard way if you want to, Haru, but we're both getting on that plane." Rin's voice trailed off as he disappeared into Haru's bedroom.

Haru stared after him, cheeks red. His teeth clenched and he dropped his head back with a frustrated grunt.

"What did you do to your room?" Rin's voice called down the stairs.

Haru sighed. Whatever … Whatever. Fine. Rin was a pain in the ass, he always had been. If he was going to be this insistent, then to hell with it. There was nothing to stick around here for anyway.

He tried not to grimace too hard at the thought of that, and in fact, the more it sank in, the more he realized he would actually much rather not be in this space if Makoto wasn't going to come around. Because, most assuredly, Haru would not be going to him.

He groaned again, kicked a foot out at nothing, turned on the ball of his foot, and made his way upstairs.

Rin was shuffling through his drawers, stuffing random bits of clothing in a bag. Haru walked over and snatched the bag from him, then turned and began finishing the job himself. He didn't bother to look, but he could sense the triumphant grin infecting Rin's face.

"You should really clean your room sometime," he teased.

"Shut up."

"Where's your passport?"

"Top drawer of the nightstand. I haven't used it in years."

Rin shrugged and maneuvered over to Haru's bed to dig it out. "It'll be fine."

Haru crouched to stuff the clothes down in his bag and zip it up. "Why are we going to Australia, Rin?"

Rin walked back over and held his passport out to him, still smirking. "You'll see … Toothbrush?"

Haru shook his head, annoyed. "It's in the bathroom … Stupid."

Rin chuckled under his breath and left the room.

* * *

Haru stared solemnly out of the window of the plane as Rin stuffed their bags in the overhead bin. He heard the murmur of other passengers settling in, and the hum of the plane warming up for take off, but it was all muffled to him. And though he watched the ground crew shuffle back and forth on the runway, his gaze was far from focused.

He was lost somewhere — in a place that was entirely uncomfortable, but that was also too mesmerizing to run away from. Something in him told him to call Makoto and tell him he was going to be gone for the next few days, but he refused to. And the more stubborn he was about it, the more nauseous he felt.

_Makoto didn't want to tell me he was going to Tokyo for college_ , a voice in his head recounted bitterly. _Why should I say anything to him about leaving the country?_

But the truth was, he couldn't shake the memories of that night after prelims, when he and Makoto had faced each other with their noses only inches apart, staring at each other through the shadows as Makoto admitted he'd been jealous of Rin. And Haru was still kicking himself for not fully understanding what he'd been saying in that moment, for not getting that Makoto had been jealous because Rin made Haru passionate about things in a way that Makoto didn't think that he could.

If Haru had been able to get that that night, to really understand what Makoto was referring to, he would have put him straight. He would have told him right off the bat that, though Rin stimulated some excited fury in Haru, it didn't hold a candle to how deeply he cared for Makoto. Those two things weren't the same, not even close.

But Rin was the one who sat down in the seat next to him now, and Haru shuddered to think that Makoto would be unhappy about that, especially at this time. But, as it was, that no longer seemed to matter, because he wasn't going to get off the plane. He wasn't going to run back home to Makoto and beg for forgiveness, beg for an apology, beg for healing and repair. Though it would have been nice.

He found himself imagining what that might look like, if he just stood up, told Rin he wasn't going to participate in this expedition, and walked off the plane. He'd run home, dramatically, like they did in the movies, but instead of going to his own house, he'd go to Makoto's. And he wouldn't let himself in this time. He'd politely ring the doorbell and wait with his head bowed until Makoto answered the door. And he would look to Haru with shining green eyes, and he'd apologize and say he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't leave Haru and he'd stay with him forever and they'd follow each other for the rest of their lives. And Haru wouldn't say anything, he'd just grab Makoto by the face and kiss him.

Which … was interesting, because he'd never thought about doing that before — never pictured it in his mind. But now that he did, it gave him a warm feeling of longing in his chest. He started to wonder if Makoto had ever kissed anyone before, but quickly tossed the thought, because he knew he hadn't. Makoto would have told him about it … Or at least, that's what he hoped. And this fear, this inability to trust whether or not Makoto had really always shared everything with him, brought his mood down again. He turned sour, and he was glad he was on the plane. Why would he want to kiss Makoto?

Why would he want to kiss Makoto?

"Oooi, Nanase!"

Haru blinked, finally looking over as Rin shook him out of his reverie.

"What?"

Rin raised a brow. "What's the matter with you? I've been calling your name for the past five minutes."

Haru rolled his eyes back to the window. "That's an exaggeration."

"So? Why do you look like you're contemplating how to best jump out of the plane? If you really didn't want to come —"

"That's not it," Haru cut him off. He was quiet for a moment, aware of the look Rin was giving him. He frowned. "Rin … Can you tell Makoto where we're going?"

Rin didn't respond at first. When Haru glanced back at him, his expression was hard to read. "Why don't you tell him?"

He didn't mean to grimace with contempt, it just happened, and he wasn't able to look away in time to hide it from those watchful red eyes. Rin exhaled a thoughtful hum and dug out his phone. Haru let his shoulders drop a bit, feeling at least a little lighter knowing that Makoto wouldn't be wondering where he was. He'd expected Rin to send Makoto a brief text or something, but Haru tensed up again the moment Rin started talking into the phone.

"Oi, Makoto."

Haru whipped his head back around.

"Haru wanted me to —"

He threw a punch at Rin's shoulder, and the impact was much more forceful than either of them expected it to be.

"Jesus!" Rin exclaimed, shooting Haru a glare as he leaned away. Haru was a little sorry, but he didn't care to express it. He just glared right back, his eyes wide, silently pleading with Rin to keep him out of the conversation. Rin wrinkled his nose, he wasn't an expert at reading Haru's thoughts.

"Rin?" said Makoto's muffled voice. "Are you okay?"

Haru's gaze flickered to the phone, his expression softening at the sound of that voice. He was so far off, but the phone was only a reach away.

"Yeah," Rin said, putting the phone back to his ear. "Sorry. I was just calling to let you know I have Haru with me. We're on the plane to Australia."

A hesitant silence carried for a moment, during which Haru listened intently for a response.

"Oh," was the soft reply. A knot formed in Haru's throat. Some part of him silently wished that Makoto would get angry and demand that Rin bring him back right now, but that was too much to expect of someone like Makoto.

"Okay," was what he said instead. "Thanks for letting me know. How long will you be gone?"

Rin shrugged. "Just a couple days. We'll be back in time to prepare for nationals."

"Okay. Well …" More hesitation, and Haru could feel the weight in it, the emotion in it, the struggle in it. "Be safe then, and let me know when you land."

Haru's stomach sank with disappointment. He set his back against the seat and returned his gaze to the window.

"Sure," Rin said. "And Makoto? What we talked about before … I'm taking care of it, alright?"

Haru furrowed his brow.

"I see … Rin? Haru's next to you right now?"

"Yeah. You want to talk to him?"

Haru tensed, heart picking up significantly. He couldn't tell if that was something he wanted or not, but even if he didn't, part of him would have loved the opportunity to refuse. However, after a long contemplative silence, Makoto sighed and said, "No, that's alright." And Haru clenched his jaw, fingers curling into fists between his legs.

"Just … let him know he can call me — if he wants to talk."

"Alright."

"Thank you, Rin."

"Sure."

"We'll see you soon."

The line went dead, and Haru dropped his head to the side, sigh escaping through his nose. Rin stuffed his phone back in his pocket after turning it off, and looked directly at Haru afterward, his very presence expectant.

"What?" Haru mumbled.

"What happened?"

Haru wrinkled his nose. "Nothing important. What did you and Makoto talk about before?"

"Nothing important," Rin shot back.

Haru pursed his lips, throwing a glare over his shoulder. Rin was unamused and unconcerned, he lifted an eyebrow. Haru looked away, silently declaring that they weren't going to talk about it. It took a moment, but Rin shifted to make himself comfortable and sighed dramatically.

"He texted me after regionals," he said, staring forward as the plane began to back out of the gate. The flight attendant was going over the safety protocols. Rin's eyes stayed steady on her, but neither he nor Haru were paying any attention.

"He said he was worried about you. And he felt like I could help you find a dream."

Haru scoffed, chest burning. "So he thinks, huh?"

"He just wants you to be happy," Rin stated defensively. "I'm surprised I have to tell you that."

Haru bit at the inside of his lip and dropped his gaze to his lap. "He can keep his worries to himself," he mumbled.

"Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to you two?"

Haru made a face, still refusing to meet Rin's gaze, which was watching him again.

"Don't do that," Rin chided, an air of disgust to his tone. "Makoto cares about you more than he does anyone else, and that's saying something. He doesn't deserve that kind of attitude, least of all from you."

Haru could feel the heat rising on the back of his neck. His eyes blurred over in anger, but he kept it quiet. "Just drop it," he whispered.

"Why are you so mad?"

Haru didn't respond, and he had no intentions of responding, and Rin waited for it, but he gave up quickly, because he didn't bother with Haru's stubbornness.

"Fine," he said, shaking his head. "We'll talk about it later."

Part of Haru wanted to defiantly reject that, to put his foot down and declare that they were never going to talk about it, but he didn't bother. He was sure if he did, he and Rin would end up in some kind of heated argument and none of the other passengers needed to be subjected to that. Though, if he was going to be honest, it was much easier to fight with Rin. It didn't bother him as much, because it never lingered afterward — not like this, not like what had happened with Makoto.

The subject didn't come up again for a good while. The plane ride was quiet. Rin fell asleep halfway through it and Haru just stared out across the expansive blue sky, grateful when they began to descend and the plane tilted, allowing him a view of the ocean as well. It was a much shorter ride than he had expected, but he still had to nearly shove Rin out of his seat to wake him up.

It wasn't until they got off the plane and Haru started picking up on some of the conversations around him, that he began to feel uneasy. Most everybody was speaking English, and he didn't understand a word of it. He hadn't allowed himself to think too much about where they were actually going, and now that they were here, Haru wished Rin had picked someplace else. No one looked anything like them either, and they attracted a lot of glances once they'd left their arrival gate.

Haru could feel his body pulling to gravitate closer to a comfort that wasn't there. All he had was Rin, and Rin was walking too fast. He didn't linger close to Haru's side, or shadow him with a protective tallness, or smile at him to ease his discomfort. In fact, it was all the very opposite. And Haru found himself practically jogging in Rin's wake, very tempted to grab at the back of his travel bag and demand that he be more considerate.

"Oi," he complained, glaring at the back of Rin's head. "Oi! Slow down."

"Walk faster," Rin said over his shoulder.

"Baka," Haru swore. "You're walking too fast."

Rin huffed a groan and turned on his heel to grab Haru's wrist and drag him along the rest of the way, never braking his pace. Haru stumbled. He wrinkled his nose indignantly.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough. We've got to catch the bus, Haru."

"No one speaks Japanese here," he complained.

"You'll be fine."

"How can you read all the signs?"

"Haru, I lived here for years. You ought to try paying attention in your English studies sometime. You never know when someone's going to drag your ass to another country."

Haru huffed, unconcerned with being difficult while Rin lugged him behind. He'd resolved to come on the pretext of not having to be home alone, but that didn't mean he appreciated Rin's blunt spontaneity and lack of detail. So he fussed as much as he had the energy to, just to make sure Rin got the point.

They caught their bus. And Haru found himself tucking his limbs in as close as he could as he sat amidst dozens of unfamiliar faces, in an unfamiliar vehicle, surrounded by unfamiliar advertisements and staring at the back of Rin's head two rows ahead of him. Makoto would never do that. In fact, were this a trip between the two of them, the roles would probably be reversed — most assuredly be reversed. Haru would stick out his chest and act like he knew what he was doing for Makoto's sake, who would be the one shifting his gaze around nervously.

A ball tightened in his stomach and he resolved to just look out the window.

* * *

They went to the beach … eventually, after Rin nearly gave him a heart attack by disappearing — which was another thing Makoto would never do. It was admittedly beautiful, the ocean, the most familiar thing there was to see from this island that was so much bigger than theirs. The people still looked alien to him, but water was recognizable wherever he went. Though … in this case now he didn't feel it was as much a friend anymore. He liked looking at it, but he could feel it warning him to keep his distance today. So he sat in the sand and held his knees to his chest while Rin poked at the shoreline with his bare feet.

"I was sure you'd never agree to this trip, you know," Rin said, hair tossing back in the chilling breeze as he looked back at Haru. "But you actually came along. What happened?"

Haru's grip tightened on this arms. "I just don't feel like being over there right now."

The corner of Rin's mouth dipped. His shoulders rose and fell patiently. "You and Makoto had a fight, didn't you?"

Haru didn't respond, but he knew his face was giving him away.

"Hm." Rin turned nonchalantly, strolling back to the water's edge. "It's just one little fight. Souske and I fight all the time."

Haru held back a scoff, mostly because the grief was beginning to weigh him down again. His shoulders sagged and he dropped his chin on his arms, staring distantly into the sand.

"It was our first fight … and it wasn't little," he mumbled, mostly to himself, thinking back on how this fight had maybe stretched itself across several weeks, rather than suddenly popping up in the one moment. They'd had their back and forths before, but yelling at each other wasn't something they were used to.

"That reminds me," Rin said. "Makoto finally decided on his post-graduation plans, didn't he?"

Haru looked up, stomach dropping, because why did Rin know this already, when Haru had just been informed the night before? How long had Makoto intentionally kept it from him, and why was he okay with telling other people first?

"He said he wanted to tell you as soon as possible," Rin continued, as though listening to Haru's thoughts.

This just made him feel worse. He dropped his gaze again. "Well, he didn't," he mumbled, though it came out less bitter and more solemn this time. He didn't want to hear about Makoto's well-meaning and concerned soul. He wanted to stay mad at him and Rin was making that hard.

"I'm sure he just didn't know how to say it." Rin shrugged, turning back to face him again, his back to the sea.

Haru frowned. "Makoto doesn't need to know how to say it … He just has to tell me."

Rin furrowed his brow, because he didn't understand the perfectly sound logic in that statement. He heaved a large sigh and walked over to plop down next to Haru in the sand.

"Is that what the fight was about?"

Haru's arms tensed. "He should have told me."

"He did tell you."

"He should have told me before he decided," Haru argued, shooting an agonized glare at Rin.

A small crease came to Rin's brow. "Why do you think so?"

Haru blinked, taken aback by this response. Was the answer not obvious? Who else was Makoto going to consult with before making decisions, especially the kind that involved the future — his future — their future? His lips set in the corner.

Rin tilted his head. "Is Makoto not allowed to make decisions without you?"

Haru scoffed. "What do you mean?"

"Haru," Rin said, red eyes serious, tone like that of a parent's. "I know you and Makoto are close — really close. Very few things are ever going to be able to get in the way of that. But Makoto's allowed to take a step back if he needs to. I mean, Jesus, I think he's earned it by now. He's done so much for you, and you're always the forefront of his concern — _always_. I can't tell you how many times we've had conversations, and not once has he ever forgotten to mention your name. But he's a whole human being, Haru — a whole _other_ human being — with feelings and longings and desires, just like you have. Makoto's incredibly selfless, but I'm sure even he isn't comfortable with feeling like he's not allowed to move without your consent."

Haru looked away quickly — because this conversation was extremely bothersome to him. "It's not like that," he said breathlessly.

"I know you don't mean it that way," Rin said. "But how much do you really depend on him for everything?"

Haru's face pulled, he turned it more in the opposite direction, because he didn't want Rin to see that his words were getting to him. He didn't want to encourage the guilt, the desperation, the tar-like filthiness of dragging Makoto down. Was he a negligent friend? Well, it shouldn't be a surprise, didn't he already know this about himself? Didn't he already know he made Makoto miserable? So why did this feel so much worse?

"Sorry, Haru," Rin said, picking up on some of his shame. "It's not to make you feel bad. I just think it'd be okay if you gave Makoto a call. I think he'd appreciate it."

Haru stood suddenly. He hadn't told himself to, but the pressure was overwhelming again and he couldn't sit anymore. He didn't respond to Rin. He just walked away, just strolled down the beach for a moment, and Rin let him, watching him from a distance.


	13. Chapter 13

He didn't call Makoto, but it weighed on his mind for the rest of the day. He did his best to be present while they were having dinner with Rin's homestay parents, did his best to understand what they were saying to him as they cooed over him and passed him friendly smiles. Their dog was nice. And the mackerel was tasty, but he was beyond exhausted by the time they made it to their hotel that night. And Rin wanted to make such a fuss about there being only one bed. Haru didn't care, he just wanted to sleep. He shared a bed with Makoto all the time — all he had was Rin in this moment, but he'd get used to it.

It took him a while to talk Rin down about it, but they finally made it under the covers and turned their backs to one another as they lay there and stared into the shadows of the room.

There was silence.

Haru gazed sleepily at the wall, but his eyes didn't close. He didn't understand how he could be so tired but not fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. He felt like he hadn't slept in weeks, and maybe to some extent that was true. The bed was admittedly comfortable, but there was a stiffness in his spine that he couldn't relax to. The weight on the bed behind him wasn't Makoto's and that made a significant difference, but it shouldn't have upset his ability to sleep like this.

"Hey, Haru," Rin called, his voice quiet.

Haru pulled in a breath. He didn't say anything, but Rin was aware he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"I told you I've always admired you, right?"

Haru still didn't respond. This was, in fact, the second time Rin had mentioned this today, but Haru didn't know what to make of it, so he hadn't thought on it much.

"You might not remember it, but I still remember the first day I met you. To be honest, it had never occurred to me that I could lose to someone. But any frustration I felt vanished when I thought, 'There's someone more amazing than me. I want to be able to swim like him.' That's why it's hard for me when you're not always there ahead of me, showing me what path I should take. Without you, I have nothing to aim for, you know?"

Haru frowned. He was glad they weren't facing each other, because soaking in these words was, for some reason, difficult. Again, he tried to be present, but even though Rin was talking about them, Haru wasn't thinking about the current conversation. When he heard the words "the first day I met you," he automatically thought of the day his parents toted him down the steps to meet their new neighbors. It wasn't a clear memory, he'd been much too young at that point, but it had been explained to him enough times that he could see his tiny toddler of a self blinking up at Makoto's green eyes for the first time as the other stared down at Haru curiously from Mrs. Tachibana's arms. Haru wondered now, what he had thought in that moment — if it had been anything significant, like the thoughts Rin had. He doubted it. He wasn't sure how smart he'd been in all reality at that age, and he wished he could go back to then and sit in his own mind.

"I remember it too," he said to Rin now. And the truth was that he did. He remembered meeting Rin much more clearly than he remembered meeting Makoto, which was an interesting dilemma, if you could call it one.

Rin shifted and Haru could hear the smile in his voice as he went on. "Do you remember the freestyle race we swam during that tournament this spring? When we tied and set a tournament record together?"

"Yeah."

"I was testing you then. I wanted to see if that was really the farthest you could go. And when I sensed you coming up from behind me, I knew for sure … That you were definitely going to enter the same world as me."

A knot pushed its way up to Haru's throat. So they were going to talk about this again? Why was Rin being so sentimental right now? What if he didn't want to enter that world? That world of competitive swimming, and traveling, taking international leaps and bounds, meeting new people. He knew Rin wanted to do that. He knew Rin had always wanted to do that. And he knew Rin wanted him to do that with him too, but … He could feel it, that gap, that separation between him and Makoto stretching out, growing longer, pulling him away. Makoto wasn't going to enter that world. He hadn't spoken the details of his dream, but Haru knew just from the time he'd spent watching Makoto coach the kids at the Swim Club. He knew what Makoto was capable of, where it was going to take him, and it wasn't the same direction.

His chest pulled and the knot tightened around his Adam's apple. He could feel his ears going warm.

"Hey, Haru," Rin said, his voice far off. "During that race, didn't you feel something too?"

Yes.

The extremely honest answer was yes. But …

His fist curled around the corner of his pillow. It was getting hard to breathe. His heart had already made it up to his ears.

What if he allowed that yes to be his future? What if he followed Rin into competitive swimming like that? What if he continued to swim with him and carve out that path for them both? If Rin was going to aim for Haru, then what was Haru aiming for?

" _Why don't we join the swimming club together?"_

Haru's heart stopped. He saw himself turning to a six-year-old Makoto, whose eyes were bright, happy, unbothered, and unburdened, smiling at his best friend who didn't smile back.

" _Nah, it's too much work," Haru said carelessly, releasing the bars he was clutching to slide down away from Makoto whose eyes followed him._

" _But you love to swim, don't you?"_

_Haru peeked back over his shoulder. "I don't love it that much. If you want to join, then join by yourself," he said, completely callous, completely cold, and yet so surprised when Makoto frowned, taking his place at the top of the slide with a tight grip._

" _Then I won't join either," said the sandy-haired little boy definitively._

_Haru had turned at this, baffled by the logic. "Why not?"_

" _Because there's no point if you're not with me."_

He'd said it so confidently, so passionately, like he meant every word. There was no point, it was pointless, meaningless … if they weren't together.

Something warm rolled down his cheek and he shot up, so shocked that it left him breathless. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back still to Rin, and panicked, wiping at his face as tears began to liberally cascade down to his chin in a rush. He brushed at them frantically, trying to get them to stop. Thoroughly aghast because he hadn't felt them coming. But the more he wiped them away, the more unrelenting they became, until a sweep of grief pulled so heavily at his chest that he simply gave in and dropped his face into his palms. His body curled into itself, trembling, as he leaned into his knees and began to sob.

It had been hard to remember this feeling, all the years he'd fought it off. But now that he was here, the ache felt all too familiar. Crying didn't feel good, but there was something about it that allowed his emotions to be thoroughly vindicated, like he'd earned this right, like he deserved the opportunity to make a big deal of this.

He barely noticed Rin behind him, was completely unaware as he sat up on his elbows and watched him for the longest time.

All he could think about was the barrage of memories he had of Makoto. He couldn't clearly remember the day they'd met, no, but that meant so much to their closeness, and he very nearly remembered every single day after that. All of which had been good things up until this point when things had become complicated. It had been so simple before — Makoto's loyalty despite Haru's aloofness, swimming together, playing together, eating together, going to school together, at the very least listening to Makoto laugh if he wasn't going to laugh himself. What if Makoto had never been there?

Then it would have all been meaningless.

And what about now? What about this moment here as they faced the reality of having to be apart? What about this moment here as they slept on different continents, in different countries? What about the literal thousands of miles between them? What about Rin currently occupying the space Makoto should have been in?

This made the pain worse, made the tears gush out faster, and he was completely unaware of the weeping moans that escaped him at this point. He made Makoto so miserable. He'd always made Makoto so miserable.

The mattress lifted and dipped, shifting underneath him as Rin silently moved and sat himself next to Haru. He said nothing, did nothing, just waited. Just stared at the floor with his elbows on his knees as he listened to Haru cry.

It took a long time, but Haru wasn't in the business of caring at the moment. This hurt too much for him to be concerned about how long it was taking him to pull himself together. He wasn't even trying to anymore, he couldn't. He'd held it in for so long, too long. It had been begging for his attention, begging to be let go, and he'd ignored it all the while. And it was getting him back for that now.

"I c-can't do this without him, Rin," he cried. "I can't do this without him."

Rin pulled in a long breath and rested a hand on Haru's back. That was all. He just left it there in stillness, the warmth from his fingers spreading along Haru's shoulder blade.

"He's always been there," Haru continued in a mournful whine, unsure what it was about this moment that insisted he speak these words out loud. "He's always been the one showing me what path I should take. Where am I supposed to go without him, what am I supposed to do? How could I go on swimming, knowing that he's not there, when he's the reason I swim in the first place?"

Rin exhaled. "I get it," he said quietly, gently patting Haru's back. "I get it."

Haru shook his head and finally turned wet, woeful eyes to the guy next to him, brow bent desperately. "Rin —"

"You're in love with him," Rin said.

The tears continued, but the weeping stopped. His lungs took in a short breath and he and Rin stared at each other for a moment … a long one. Rin's gaze was steady, was sympathetic, was understanding, and it somehow encouraged his wounded heart to settle itself back down in his chest.

"It makes sense," he said, nodding. "You've been scared to make a decision without him, and it hurt when he made one without you."

Haru's lip trembled. He dropped his gaze. Rin shook his shoulder encouragingly.

"Haru … Have you ever told Makoto how you feel?"

"I didn't know how I felt," he sniffed, wiping his eyes. "Not until recently."

"Do you think he wouldn't accept it?"

Haru shook his head. "He would." His heart beat once, slightly intimidated by his next thought, but he knew it was true. "He feels the same way."

Rin's head cocked to the side. "Did he tell you?"

"No … not directly."

Rin sucked his teeth and sighed. "You guys spend way too much time in each other's heads."

"That's the problem," Haru said, straightening his back. Rin's hand slid away. "We don't know how to _tell_ each other things anymore. That's why everything's gotten so complicated."

"So why don't you just talk then?" Rin asked angling his shoulders to better face Haru seriously. "Why don't you guys just have a conversation? I mean, Haru …" He turned and swiped Haru's cell phone off of the stand next to the bed and held it out to him. "Call him."

Haru stared at it, wiping away the last of the tears. His gaze went out of focus as he thought about their fight, as he thought about how they'd yelled at each other. Makoto had just been trying to help him, and Haru wouldn't hear it.

"I was so mean to him," he said, hardly louder than a whisper.

"So apologize. Here." Rin pressed the phone against Haru's chest, but it just sparked a nerve.

"No." He hit it away, knocking it out of Rin's hand and onto the floor. "You don't understand," he said, looking up as his eyes blurred over again. "I've always been mean to him. I've always treated him poorly. I've always been so selfish. I've always expected him to be there and never once thought about what would make him happy." His voice wavered and this time he brushed the tears away before they could fall. "I don't deserve him."

Rin stared. His hand reached up in the space between them and slapped the side of Haru's face. Haru coughed in surprise. It didn't hurt, but his mouth certainly stood open.

"Idiot. No one deserves Makoto. Do you think he cares about that? Do you think he even recognizes that? Why do you think he's been so loyal to you for so long? You may not have realized how you felt until just recently, but I'm pretty sure Makoto has been sitting in his feelings for years. If you want to know what makes him happy, Haru, go look in a mirror."

Haru blinked.

Rin frowned. "Sorry, let me clarify. Go look in a mirror, when you're not this much of a mess. Makoto is happy when _you're_ happy, Haru. Don't you feel the same?"

Haru dropped his gaze. He remembered that moment, after swimming in the race against Makoto, that moment when Makoto had lifted his head to the sky with a brilliant, carefree smile, when the water from the pool dripped from his hair and glittered on his shoulders and he was content. That moment when Makoto had been the most stunning Haru had ever noticed him being.

"Yeah," he whispered to his lap.

"So," Rin said, shifting, now turning his whole body to face Haru. He bent his knee and held his foot, his other leg still hanging off the side of the bed. "What would make you happy, Haruka Nanase?"

Haru dropped his shoulders. Those weren't the kinds of things he actively thought about. He was used to just acting on impulse in each moment as it passed. He didn't spend time wondering where each step would take him and how it might make him feel. If he was hungry, he ate. If he wanted to swim, he swam. If he needed comfort, he soaked. If he needed company, he sought out his best friend. But he never predicted those moments, never planned them out.

He looked to Rin and sighed.

* * *

It was well past two in the morning when he closed himself quietly in the bathroom and sank down onto the floor with his back against the door. Rin was asleep now. Once they'd declared an end to their conversation, it hardly took him five minutes to zone out. He hadn't shifted an inch when Haru had finally bulked up the courage to slide out of bed. He'd picked up his phone from the floor and now he was here, staring at it, heart thumping so loudly he could swear it was echoing around the room.

He tried not to think about it too much, and realized his body was much better at making his desires clear when he let it act on its own. His thumb was pressing the call button by Makoto's name the moment he let the thought go. It started ringing, and he panicked, but his fingers were frozen and wouldn't allow him to hang up.

It rang for a while though, and he hoped that meant Makoto was too deep in his sleep. Maybe he could get away with leaving a silent message the way he'd done with his mother before. Makoto could read whatever he wanted from that at that point. He'd get it probably. But just when that hopeful bit of luck started to settle Haru's heartbeat, the line clicked, and the excited little muscle shot up to his throat again.

"Hello?"

He froze. Makoto's voice didn't sound particularly sleepy. He'd heard him speak on the phone plenty of times after he'd just been woken from slumber. He was familiar with the thick, groggy groan that normally came out of him in those moments. They weren't unaccustomed to calling each other in the middle of the night. But it was clear, in this moment, that Makoto had already been awake. And Haru wondered if he was having trouble sleeping too. And if he was, why so? Was he plagued by the same heaviness as Haru, the same distress, the same guilt?

He couldn't say anything though. In fact, everything he'd been planning to say took a flying leap out of his mind and he was completely at a loss. He just sat silently, holding the phone up to his ear, free arm wrapped tightly around his legs. His lips trembled.

"Haru …"

It wasn't a question. Makoto knew he was there, and the way he spoke his name was soft, was affectionate, was sad, and somehow also so full of understanding. Makoto made him sick sometimes — literally. Why couldn't he just set Haru straight? Why did he never scream at him to act right and apologize? Why was he never angry with him? Why was he always so kind? It just made things extremely difficult. He would have much rather Makoto let him have it, give him a piece of his mind with no regrets, that sort of thing. Instead, he sighed in response to Haru's silence.

"It's raining again," he said quietly.

Haru caught himself frowning and buried his nose in his knees. He closed his eyes and listened.

"I was thinking about that time when we were kids," Makoto said. "I don't remember how old we were. I just remember waking up abruptly in the middle of the night to a terrible storm. You were with me, but you were asleep. I was too afraid to wake you up, because I didn't want you to be cranky, but I was terrified of the storm. I tried to hide from it." A ghost of a chuckle passed its way through the phone and into Haru's ear. It sent a shiver down his back.

He allowed himself to dip back into the memories of this moment. For something so small, they'd both been thinking about it a lot recently. Out of all the hundreds of thousands of memories they had collected with each other, this was the one they both turned to.

Haru heard the distant rumble of thunder in the background, but when Makoto continued, his voice was impressively level, impressively calm.

"I remember I was crying. I was so upset with myself in that moment, because I couldn't get it together, and I wished I could be like you and just sleep through it all. And then I felt you wake up … and you crawled under the blanket and asked me why I was scared. Then you made me lay down and you wiped my tears away for me and you told me I was brave … And it wasn't a question. It wasn't a suggestion. You just said it like it was true — like you knew it was true."

Makoto went quiet for a while and Haru listened to his silence, still unable to speak, but he could feel the emotion coming from the other end of the line. He could feel the longing in their kinship, in their closeness. He wanted to be there with Makoto. He wanted to lay next to him and drag his hand across his back. But maybe … this time he might have needed to hear something like that from Makoto instead.

Makoto's soft, exhausted laugh made Haru shiver again. "It was so amazing to me. The very thing that I felt like I wasn't in that exact moment, the very thing I wanted to be … That was exactly what you saw in me, exactly what you encouraged me to see in myself. I had no choice but to believe you … And then you held me, and I was able to sleep."

Haru swallowed and raked a hand through his hair, forcing himself to breathe steadily.

"I wish … we could go back to that," Makoto said, his voice this time almost too soft to catch.

But Haru felt the words, more than he heard them, and he found himself nodding. "Me too."

He heard nothing, but he could feel a mild sense of relief relaxing Makoto's shoulders. "I've always thought you were brave, you know. Much braver than I could ever hope to be."

Haru's body shook. He lifted his face and wiped at his cheek, turning his eyes to the dark ceiling overhead. "Doesn't feel like I am right now."

"Maybe not … but I didn't feel very brave either. I think, maybe it doesn't have anything to do with what you feel. I think being brave is more about moving forward despite how afraid you are."

He tried to keep it quiet, but it was difficult. It seemed now that he'd allowed himself to cry once, his body had no reservations about doing it again — it didn't care that he would rather not give this vulnerability away to Makoto's attention. He knew it would make Makoto much sadder than he already was. He knew it'd make him feel guilty, and he didn't want to impress that upon his best friend anymore. But … it was hard to pull it back in. His body was trembling without resistance and the tears were already seeping into the collar of his t-shirt. A small whimper escaped him and he pressed his face into his knees again and tried to breathe.

"Makoto …" he whispered. It was the only thing that came out of his mouth. Then he had to press his lips together before it all got out of control.

Makoto heard it just in that though, Haru knew he did, and he felt bad. But Makoto's exhale was patient. "Do you know … I told you that swimming backstroke helped me get over my fear of the ocean, but … that was only part of it. The more I looked out at the ocean — especially on a clear day — the more it reminded me of you. And whenever I thought about that, I couldn't be scared anymore."

Haru's ears began to burn, his throat tightened. He sniffed.

"The ocean's the same color as your eyes," Makoto said, his voice timid but warm. "There's a … vastness to them both that I've never been able to read all the way through at one time. So much lives at the bottom of your gaze, and no one else has any idea — that there's so much more to you than they can see, than what you show them. I think so many people are fascinated, because they recognize that there's some mystery to you, but they don't get what it is. I don't either — most times — but there have been moments, when I've been so lucky just to catch a glimpse of how deep you really are. I don't know if anyone else has seen it, but … I sometimes like to be selfish and think that I'm the only one who has."

Haru could feel something unraveling in his chest, encouraging the rest of his muscles to relax. He felt warm, washed over by a tingle that was pleasant, but made him itch with yearning.

This tenderness was one-hundred percent Makoto, there was no arguing that. But he would never say anything so touching and so personal with this much ease if they were face-to-face. It wasn't unlike him to be affectionate when they were together, to surprise Haru every now and then with the amount of passion he carried around, but this was different, this raised itself to another level entirely.

"You are," Haru said, heart still pounding. "I don't mind if it stays that way."

Makoto sighed a hum of gratitude, as though he was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. So another long moment of silence passed before he very quietly spoke up again. "I wish you were here."

Haru's heart twisted. He grimaced. He couldn't respond, but he knew Makoto could feel the honesty in his silence, could feel the desire. He wanted to be there too.

"How's the trip going?" Makoto asked, before they could sit in the ache for too long.

Haru shrugged, even though he knew Makoto couldn't see the motion. "I don't know."

"Are you feeling any better?"

Haru's heart fluttered. This man … he was always so concerned with how he felt, no matter how many emotions he was having to deal with within himself.

"I'm not sure," Haru answered honestly. He should have been more positive about it, but it was difficult not to tell Makoto the truth.

Makoto hummed again, this time with compassion. "I want you to find peace while you're there, Haru-chan … It's hard to watch you struggle so much."

Haru frowned, this time closing his eyes as his brow creased. He exhaled carefully through his nose. He couldn't respond to this either. Makoto didn't seem bothered.

"I'm sure Rin has a lot planned for you guys tomorrow. You should try to get some sleep."

"Makoto …"

His pulse rose again, hand shaking as he squeezed the phone. He didn't want Makoto to go yet. He wanted to keep listening to the soft lull of his voice, it was so much better than letting the silence weigh on his eardrums as he tried to sleep. Also … he hadn't apologized. He was supposed to. He needed to. But the words wouldn't form on his tongue and so his lips sealed themselves shut again.

"Don't be sad, Haru."

Haru's chest inflated. His throat closed. He shivered, the crease deepening on his brow.

"I'll see you when you get back."

The line went dead not too long after this. He could imagine Makoto setting his phone down and breathing out all of his sorrows as he buried his face into his pillow and maybe never got to get any sleep. Haru was supposed to apologize. Now Makoto had to lay in bed alone with a weight on his chest, carrying both of their burdens, dreaming up nightmares about him and Rin having a grand old time in Australia, or else fearing that Haru would never be happy again. He'd have to endure the storm alone tonight — they both would.


	14. Chapter 14

He didn't get much sleep, but he managed to make a resolve by the time Rin slapped his shoulder to wake him up the next morning.

He wasn't going to be difficult today. He wasn't going to grumble or complain or get lost in his thoughts. He was going to be present — really — and he was going to accept whatever it was Rin wanted to show him. He figured he had to. He hadn't apologized to Makoto like he was supposed to, so the least he could do now was try to find that peace that Makoto wanted him to come back with. He'd probably let him down if something didn't change between now and tomorrow morning. So, he fought past his exhaustion and dressed for the day.

Rin declared he was sick of sharing a bed after just the one night, they'd find somewhere else to stay closer to the airport for the last night. So they checked out and toted their stuff with them to their next destination … to whatever it was Rin absolutely felt Haru needed to see that couldn't be found in Japan.

The Sydney Olympic Park Aquatic Center.

It was enormous. Despite the very clear sign, from the outside, it was the farthest thing from an aquatic center that he'd ever seen. The corridors where lined with plaques and trophies, giant posters of Olympic-level events, pictures of important people and famous swim teams, and a pristine blue floor. Rin led the way past a particularly exciting play area with water slides and fountains, though it seemed it was too early for that kind of fun, as the water was quite still.

The competition pool though, was impressive. There was no one in it at the moment, and the surface was as clear as glass, reflecting the light of the sun from the skylights above their heads. Haru had seen plenty of pools, each one of them shining with their own personality, but there was something about this one, something foreign, something professional, something tempting that made his eyes stare with wonder as Rin explained that this was where the best swimmers in the world came to compete. Haru believed it. He believed every word.

"Let's swim."

Haru blinked, hardly daring to hope someone like him would be allowed in water so sacred. "We can swim here?"

"Of course, anyone can."

Haru looked back, and this time heard the whisper of the water calling to him. This eased something tense in his heart. The water hadn't called out to him for several weeks. He wondered why now. It seemed so kind, so inviting, so familiar. But of course, it would be the one time wouldn't it?

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," he admitted, almost in apology to the water more than a statement for Rin.

Rin smiled and turned, already headed for the locker rooms. "I'll loan you one."

Haru followed without hesitation. It had been a long time since anyone had loaned him a swimsuit, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Man, you really have been off your game, haven't you?" Rin teased.

"It's your fault," Haru said. "You rushed me out of the house too fast."

"Don't you always wear a swimsuit under your clothes though?"

Haru pursed his lips and caught the jammers Rin tossed at him once they made it in the locker room to change. "Mostly," he said under his breath. "Don't make this embarrassing."

Rin chuckled to himself.

They changed quickly, and Haru followed Rin out to the pool, eyes glancing around at the very few people lingering about. They were all staring in one direction, and Haru followed their gazes, catching the point of interest in the same moment that Rin stopped and saw them as well.

"That's the National Team," Rin said, a bit of wonder lifting his tone.

"National Team?" Haru repeated, already feeling an odd itch crawl up his back.

"They use this pool for practice."

Haru stiffened, brow bending as he began to notice how out of place they were again. He'd almost forgotten this was an entirely different country they were in. And now they were going to inhabit the same space as the Australian National Swim Team?

"Is it really okay to swim here then?" He glanced back at the pool. "No one's swimming."

Rin huffed thoughtfully and propped a hand on his hip. "There's a regular recreational pool over there. No one without the guts to swim beside the National Team would use this one." He smirked and raised a challenging eyebrow at Haru. "What do you want to do?"

Haru's nose twitched. That odd itch intensified and he realized it was eagerness. After so many hours of sulking, after arguing with Makoto and being scolded by Rin, after putting all of his energy into resisting so much for so long and finally letting it all go through his tears the night before — after listening to Makoto's tender voice over the phone and deciding that he wouldn't put him through anymore of this stress by being difficult — he felt considerably lighter, and he hadn't realized it until this one moment.

_Swim_ , a voice whispered, calling to him from the water, and that voice sounded very much like the man he was in love with.

" _What would make you happy, Haruka Nanase?"_

Haru's gaze was drawn back to the pristine stillness of the pool.

" _I want to be with Makoto … and I want to swim."_

" _And why can't you do both? Makoto might not always be in the water with you. But as long as you're swimming, I'm sure he'll always find a way to be there at the finish line."_

Haru's heart beat once, then settled as he gazed at the image of Makoto, standing next to the starting block. His wide shoulders were bare, his hair rippling in a nonexistent wind. His green eyes looked back at Haru over his shoulder, and he smiled the same dazzling smile he had when they'd raced together. He reached out to him, palm up and waiting with so much sureness that Haru would always reach back.

Haruka walked forward, closing the gap between them. He took Makoto's hand and stepped up onto the starting block.

" _No one without the guts, he says,"_ the vision of Makoto chuckled, amused by the challenge. Both he and Haru turned their gazes to the lane stretched out before him. _"Well, it's a good thing you happen to be brave."_

Haru pulled in a long breath through his nose, filling his lungs with the comforting scent of chlorine. This would do … This would do just fine.

* * *

Rin exhaled a majestic sigh as they de-boarded the plane back in Japan. He stretched his arms over his head, back arching. "Ah, I suppose I'm going to have to get used to this."

Haru also exhaled, but quietly.

He'd decided he was grateful Rin brought him along on his trip, but it was nice to be on familiar ground, to understand what people were saying around him. Maybe he'd visit Australia with Rin again, but it was nice to be back home now. His chest lifted. It was much easier to breathe than it had been for a long while.

"You won't always be there cramping the seat next to me though, so that's a plus."

Haru scoffed, following as Rin led the way away from the gate. "You'll probably end up cramped by old ladies who smell like cats and want to talk to you the entire flight instead."

Rin made a face, tongue sticking out as he shivered. "Ugh, don't jinx me."

"You already jinxed yourself."

"Ah whatever. At least the flight's not too long."

Haru shrugged. "If you want to talk to old ladies for four hours …"

"Alright fine," Rin grumbled. "I'd rather have you there. Is that what you want me to say?"

"I don't like flying."

Rin scoffed a chuckle. "Of course you don't. And how do you expect to get there otherwise?"

"You're assuming I'll be going back one day," Haru said, playing coy.

Rin wasn't buying it. He rolled his eyes. "Of course you will."

"I'll swim then."

Rin laughed. "Yeah, and I'll send a boat to find you when you give up halfway through."

"Getting halfway would be impressive."

"Yeah, it would wouldn't it?"

"Then you'll share a bed with me again? I'm sure I'll be tired after that."

Rin wrinkled his nose and whipped a glare back over his shoulder. "Don't ever speak of that, you understand me? It's bad enough that it had to happen."

Haru lifted a small grin when Rin turned back around. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

Rin scoffed again. "Just because you do it all the time," he mumbled under his breath.

"Haru! Rin!"

Haru's heart jumped at the voice and he stuttered to a stop, lifting his gaze. Makoto waved at them from a few yards away, smiling from ear to ear like he was happy to see them. He towered over the crowds passing by, but even if he hadn't, his aura was so bright, he'd have been hard to miss.

Haru could feel his throat going dry. He started to feel overwhelmed again, except that this time it wasn't with stress or sadness. He was surprised that Makoto had come to meet them, after everything that had happened, and Haru still hadn't apologized yet.

"Makoto!" Rin greeted jovially, cutting across streams of people to get to him.

Haru followed automatically, his heart picking up the closer they got.

"You came all this way to meet us?" Rin said, apparently just as surprised.

Makoto smiled, not the least bit bothered about being inconvenienced. "You must be tired from your trip."

He turned his gaze to Haru, whose throat seized with emotion. He had to say it. He needed to say it. And he tried to, opened his mouth and everything, but the words wouldn't come out, and instead he found himself grimacing at the floor, unable to face such a pure smile.

"Haru," Makoto called out tenderly, encouraging him to meet his gaze again. Makoto's smile softened into something warm, something personal that was meant for Haru and for Haru only. "Welcome home."

No one else heard it, but Haru did. It was an _I forgive you_ that needed no words. He knew Haru was trying to apologize, knew he was having difficulties getting the words out, and he accepted all of this so graciously, accepted that their fight was over and there was no need for them to be angry or sad anymore. He wasn't even upset that Haru had gone on a spontaneous trip to another country alone with Rin without saying anything. He was merciful, in ways Haru knew he didn't deserve, and yet Makoto probably wasn't even aware of this. All he wanted was for Haru to be okay, and it made Haru's eyes burn again.

He felt the tears come back in a sweeping rush, but he demanded that they stay away. They couldn't make an appearance, not right now. It wasn't that they were in public, it was that Makoto was standing right in front of him, still smiling. His gaze shifted and he pulled in a breath to collect his composure, though it didn't stop the heat from crawling across his cheeks.

"I'm home," he said softly, staring into Makoto's eyes again.

Makoto nodded, knowing Haru well enough not to make a big deal out of it. "Let's go," he said, turning to lead the way out of the airport. "Everyone's waiting."

Haru took two more seconds to collect himself and then followed behind his friends, head dipped as he watched the floor. An elbow poked him in the ribs and he glanced up to Rin whose face was stained with a shrewd grin. He tossed his head silently in Makoto's direction and then pushed Haru ahead. He stumbled forward, knocking shoulders with Makoto, who blinked down at him. The taller teen smiled, shifting to make room for Haru by his side. Haru pulled in a breath and held it.

"Did you have fun?"

"Eventually," he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his hair. He blinked with surprise at himself when he realized this was something Makoto usually did when he was nervous.

"I'm glad," Makoto said, taking no notice. "So you feel better now, then?"

Haru exhaled. "Yeah."

Makoto flashed a smile at him. "You can tell us all about it when we meet up with Rei and Nagisa. They've been anxious for you to get back."

Haru's brow furrowed, he kept his eyes on Makoto's content expression. "Are they upset?"

Makoto shook his head. "Not at all. They just wanted you to feel better too."

"I was rude to them," Haru said, dropping his gaze to the floor again. It was true he hadn't taken their encouragement very kindly when they'd tried to talk to him about how they felt, but the majority of the guilt left over from that night was weighing from how envious of Rei and Nagisa he'd found himself in that moment. No one knew about it, but either way, they hadn't deserved that.

A warm hand took hold of his, and his heart leapt as Makoto's slender fingers slid between his. His grip was firm, reassuring, full of comfort. A rushing tingle sped up Haru's arm underneath his sleeve. His fingers twitched, and slowly curled to respond to Makoto's hold.

He looked up. The tops of Makoto's ears were red, but he was still smiling with confidence.

"No one's holding anything against you, Haru. You had some obstacles to face, and it was hard. All we want is for you to live a life that's full of all the freedom you need, that's full of joy. If you were able to find what you were looking for, then we're happy."

Haru's spine trembled. He had to look away again, because the emotions were acting back up. He found himself once more unable to respond with words, so instead, he squeezed Makoto's hand and briefly touched his forehead to his shoulder with gratitude. Makoto's thumb brushed over his to assure him he understood, and they didn't talk about it anymore until they made it to the stadium where everyone was preparing for nationals.

They split off from Rin, Haru making sure to thank him before they did so. The two little words couldn't possibly cover everything that he was grateful to Rin for, but it was what he had, and Rin seemed to understand. He left them with a grin and a wave, and then Haru and Makoto wandered off to find their teammates.

Rei and Nagisa weren't mad at all. It was incredible really, how drastically the tone of everything seemed to have changed just over the course of a few days. Haru hadn't realized how much influence he had over the well-being of his team. He didn't know how much his anxiety and fear had been bringing his friends down. He apologized for it. Then he told them about the dream he'd found, told them that he had decided to keep swimming competitively, that he was looking forward to it and that he would actually put some kind of effort into it.

They were excited for him, assured him that he had every ounce of their support, and he was touched. What he didn't mention in that moment though, was the other — perhaps more essential — half of that dream, the part in which he and Makoto might be able to spend their lives making each other happy and being honest about their feelings rather than trying to hide them for each other's sake. This he waited to talk about, because, once again, it was a strictly Haruka and Makoto conversation, and he needed to know Makoto wanted it to. But before they could talk about that, he _had_ to apologize … and with words this time.

* * *

"So this is nationals, huh? Everyone's so fast."

He and Makoto had managed to find a moment alone as Nagisa dragged Rei off to hunt down all of the vending machines in the building. They watched the myriad of swimmers adjust themselves to the pool below and prepare for their upcoming races, both of them leaning against the rail and finding some odd comfort from the sound of consistent splashes and whistles and murmurs.

By this time, Haru knew he couldn't draw it out anymore, and he didn't want to anyway. He was comfortable next to Makoto, more than he had been since regionals — maybe even before. And it was just them — just them tucked off to the side in a stadium where no one was watching or listening to them.

He pulled the courage in through his nose and kept his gaze straight. "Makoto …"

Makoto lifted his eyes to him.

"I … said something really awful to you before." His grip tightened on the rail and he could feel the magnificent burn of Makoto's gaze watching him carefully, listening intently. Haru's pulse fluttered with the last bit of grief he'd been carrying, and he turned his gaze to his best friend.

"I'm sorry."

Makoto blinked and straightened his back, leaning away from the rail now. This apology seemed to touch something soft in him, because his eyes glimmered with surprise. Haru couldn't blame him for that. It wasn't very often that he uttered sincere apologies like this, especially not to Makoto, and he hated how true that was. If anyone had been needing him to atone for his callous and often cold behavior it was the person who had to deal with it the most.

"Haru …" Makoto froze on an inhale, then lifted his lips gently and shook his head. "No, I'm the one who's sorry," he said, his voice soft, eyes turning to the ground. "For not being able to tell you about my plans. Of all the people who needed to know, you were the one I should have told first. I knew it was going to throw everything off. All those times I was late to practice … I was going to speak with the guidance counselor, to figure out what I should do. And every time you asked about it, I panicked, because I didn't want you to think I was abandoning you."

Haru's heart pressed against his chest, reaching forward as though longing to pull Makoto close. It was amazing, how willing Makoto was to turn Haru's apology into one of his own. There had never been a humbler and more sincere person on the face of the planet.

Makoto turned back to the pool, and Haru followed his lead, listening closely, shoulders squared forward, but gaze trained on the shining pair of eyes next to him.

"I knew I wasn't suited for competitive swimming. The world of competition just isn't for me. And despite how much you didn't want to think about your future, I've always known that that was the kind of path you'd end up on, the kind of world you'd thrive in. And I didn't want to get in the way of that, because I know you'll be incredible."

Haru swallowed, chest aching. He wanted to speak, but he knew he owed it to Makoto to listen. He wanted to hear his side of the story. He'd spent so much energy trying to shut him down every time he'd wanted to talk about it before.

"So I'd been thinking I'd just go to our local college or something, since there wasn't anything in particular I wanted to do. But then I ended up helping Coach Sasabe at the club. At first I only thought of it as helping him out. But then I started really having fun teaching the kids how to swim. I met Hayato, and I really wanted to do something to help him." Makoto smiled with reminiscence and leaned over the rail again, taking a peek back at Haru, whose eyes hadn't wavered from him.

"Remember how you gave me advice, when I was at a loss over him?"

Haru turned his eyes away, because he couldn't take the pureness of Makoto's gaze staring straight back at him in that moment. Makoto knew he hadn't been of much help in that situation, yet here he was insisting that Haru was at all useful.

"I didn't really do anything," he mumbled.

Makoto chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound, full of such innocence and charm. "You were more of a help than you think, Haru-chan. When I taught Hayato how to swim backstroke, he told me, 'I'm not scared of swimming anymore. I had fun.'"

Makoto's gaze lifted from him and so Haru looked back, only to be a little dazed by the blissful glimmer in Makoto's eyes as he talked about this moment.

"It made me so happy."

And he could see it, that happiness, filling Makoto up from the bottom of his toes. He could see the light behind his eyes, see the eagerness, the joy of finding purpose. And it was beautiful … even more than that moment after their race. Makoto was beautiful, was handsome, was attractive. And it turned in his stomach with a feeling Haru had never experienced before. He could hardly swallow, let alone blink. But he just continued to stare, remembering the way Makoto had been with the kids at the Swim Club, remembering how natural he'd looked in that environment, how perfectly fit he was to care for delicate little human beings … the way he'd practically cared for Haru his entire life.

"That's why I wanted to show even more kids just how fun it is to swim. I want to join the teaching side of the swim world. And to learn how to do that, I'm going to college in Tokyo. That's the dream I've found for myself."

Makoto turned to meet Haru's gaze again and it caused another stutter in his heartbeat. And Haru realized just how much it affected him to watch Makoto brighten like this. Seeing Makoto happy, did make him happy. And all he wanted to do now was sink into that feeling and soak it in forever.

He straightened his back, staring, allowing a moment to pass before he closed the gap between them and dropped his forehead onto Makoto's chest. Makoto was thrown off by this. He even stumbled back half a step, but Haru slid his arms around his waist and curled his fingers around the back of his shirt, silently insisting that this was okay.

Makoto inhaled, but that was it, and for a while he just stood frozen, his heart racing against Haru's forehead. Then Haru gave him an affectionate squeeze, and Makoto released his breath. One of his strong arms looped around Haru's back, and the other reached up to the back of his head, his fingers sliding through his hair. Something unraveled, both in and between them, and within only a few seconds, they relaxed into each other — as though this was something they did every day. As a matter of fact, it wasn't. Even with as much as he cared for Makoto, and as much as he knew Makoto cared for him, they never hugged like this.

"I'm proud of you," Haru said over an exhale, his voice muffled by Makoto's shirt. "I think you'll be a great teacher."

He heard the skip in Makoto's pulse and felt the shiver of gratitude that shook his spine. He never realized, until this moment, how much Makoto had needed his support, and he was sorry that he hadn't given it to him sooner.

Makoto buried his nose in the top of Haru's hair. "Thank you, Haru," he whispered.

They stood like this for a long time, and Haru didn't care to know how long. He didn't think Makoto cared either. Everything else was kind of forgotten in this moment. There was no stadium, no upcoming competition to prepare for, no other swimmers to worry about, nothing but them and this embrace that had been put off for much too long. It was one of those things Haru had never known he needed so much until the very moment that it arrived, and now he didn't mind if it never ended.

Makoto chuckled lightly. "This isn't like you at all, Haru-chan."

Haru sighed, closing his eyes to the rhythm of Makoto's fingers still stroking his hair. "Sorry."

Makoto hummed, shaking his head. "I don't mind it," he said quietly.

"Me neither."

"I guess we should send you off to Australia more often."

"Absolutely not."

Makoto giggled, curling his fingers tenderly around Haru's hair.

"… Not unless you come with me," Haru added in a mumble.

Makoto's pulse skipped again. He pulled in a strong inhale and exhaled a breathless chuckle, lifting his head.

Then he stiffened, and his hand was gripping Haru's shoulder with urgency all too soon.

"Haru!"

"What?" He almost complained about being forced to end the hug as Makoto pushed him away, but then he looked where Makoto was pointing, and his heart stopped.

There were two very familiar human beings walking through the doors on the opposite side of the stands. One of them was male and looked just like Haru, but older. The other was a woman — a woman with long ebony hair and a meek smile.

"I thought you said they were —" Makoto started, but Haru was already gone.

There had been no encouragement from his brain to move, his legs just started running as his heart began to pump again, this time twice as fast, shimmying its way up his throat. His fingertips were cold, and he thought no thoughts, just ran in a loop around the track to the other side of the stands, eyes keeping steady on his parents who stood next to the rail, just opposite where he and Makoto had been. They didn't see him until he was only a few yards away, and as soon as his mother's face lit up in a bright smile, he slowed, chest heaving.

"There he is," his father said, smiling as well.

Haru's gaze darted between the two of them, his movements hesitant now that they were so close, as though he wasn't sure what to make of their presence, if they were real or not.

"Okaasan," he breathed. "Otousan …"

He couldn't say much more than that, and his parents seemed amused. His mother walked forward and pulled him into a hug, automatically guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. He couldn't hear her heartbeat, but he felt it immediately and it was just as soft and mellow as ever.

"Oh no," his mother chuckled, stroking his hair almost exactly the same way Makoto had just a moment ago. "You've grown, musuko. Has it been that long already?"

He pulled away from her, still intensely shocked, still looking back and forth between them. "You said you weren't going to be home until the end of the summer."

"We won't," his father said, leaning coolly against the rail. A few wrinkles appeared by his eyes when he smiled. "But we were in the neighborhood."

"And we knew you boys would be swimming soon," his mother finished, still combing her fingers through his hair as she admired him. "So we decided we'd stick around on this side of town until after your race."

He furrowed his brow. Amidst all of the hullabaloo that had been going on with Makoto and dream-finding, he had completely neglected to tell his parents that they'd made it all the way to nationals for the relay. It wasn't abnormal, they usually couldn't attend their competitions anyway, so he wasn't sure how much of a coincidence this really was right now.

"But …"

"Makoto's mother told us, honey," his mom said with a light chuckle, still amused by the shock on his face.

"We came right over," his dad said.

Haru shook his head. "The relay isn't for another couple of days."

"Goodness, Haruka, we know what a hotel is." His father laughed and stepped forward to ruffle his hair. His dark blue eyes glanced up over Haru's head and his smile stretched. "Makoto!"

Makoto bowed politely as he walked up, smile as wide as ever — clearly just as surprised as Haru was, but better at expressing his happiness about seeing them.

"Hi," he said over a relieved kind of chuckle, consenting as Haru's mother beckoned him over for a hug. He had to bend over to get his arms around her. Haru's father clapped him on the shoulder.

"My god, talk about growing. What have your parents been feeding you?"

Makoto laughed. "I'm pretty sure it's mostly the swimming."

"I suppose it would be, wouldn't it? You boys must have been working hard this season."

Makoto beamed. "With everything we've got," he said, stepping back to stand by Haru's side once Mrs. Nanase let him go. "We're glad you made it. It's been a long time."

"I guess it has," Mrs. Nanase said, her eyes falling back to her son, who was still staring at her at this point. She passed him a comforting smile, then turned her gaze back to Makoto. "It's so good to see you, sweetheart. Everything been okay?"

Makoto let out a nervous laugh this time, his arm stretching up as he rubbed at the back of his hair. Haru glanced at him, and they exchanged a look.

"It's been … quite the semester," Makoto said airily, cheeks warm but smile still pleasant.

Mr. Nanase raised an eyebrow. "Uh oh, sounds like a story."

"It's not," Haru found himself saying.

His father huffed through his nose and draped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward the doors leading back out to the hall. "Now I definitely need to hear it."

"How about we treat you boys to lunch? You can tell us all about it." Mrs. Nanase held out an elbow for Makoto, who took it obediently, following behind Haru and his father.

Makoto sighed, but in a complacent way. Haru looked back over his shoulder, eyes very clearly expressing his internal questioning of what they should do. Makoto perked up a calming grin and shrugged. Haru exhaled and turned his gaze forward again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next part had to be broken up very specifically. So you get two shorter chapters this time.

It wasn't so bad. Makoto was decent enough of a friend to let Rei and Nagisa know they'd be gone for a little bit, and then Haru, his best friend, and his parents filed into an okonomiyaki joint down the block. Mr. and Mrs. Nanase graced the two teenagers with a very long and detailed update on work, then asked Makoto about his family, then questioned them about swimming, then finally got around to bringing up the topic about future plans. And thank goodness they had managed to settle this only hours beforehand. Haru could only imagine what it would be like having to stiffly inform his parents that he had no plan, or possibly turning ill next to Makoto as the other explained what it was he wanted to do.

As it was, it turned out to be a very light-hearted conversation in which his parents were appropriately thrilled for both of them and chided Haru for not telling them about his dream sooner. He didn't want to crush their enthusiasm with the comment that he'd literally just figured this out yesterday, so he just shrugged and they accepted that response.

It was actually rather pleasant, this moment. He still didn't know how long it had been since he'd last seen his parents, and though their presence was a surprise, he was grateful for it, and Makoto was also decent enough to express that for him, multiple times. It was quite the scene, the four of them sitting around the table, flipping savory pancakes on the griddle between them, chatting, laughing — in everyone but Haru's case, of course — and regaling each other on what life was like nowadays.

Haru almost felt a sense of déjà vu in this moment, it was the same kind of comfort he experienced in sharing a meal with the Tachibanas at his second home, except that this was very different. The familial hominess was familiar, but there was also a tingle of something odd like anxiety, or maybe excitement, or maybe embarrassment, or was it adoration warming up the back of his neck? And it was because he knew he and Makoto were different, not in any outspoken or tangible way, but their relationship had begun to venture into a space neither of them had explored before. They hadn't spoken about it yet, but it was there and they both knew it. So it was … interesting, to say the least, sitting across from the couple that had created him, while the man he was very much in love with sat next to him, so close that their knees brushed each other every now and then, and every time they did, Haru would shoot a quick glance to his right and Makoto would blush, but try to keep a straight face.

Haru's parents didn't notice, and Haru was grateful. He knew he and Makoto had a lot of conversing to do before anyone else could rightly be allowed to be nosey about what was going on. Haru himself didn't even know at this point. But … he liked it, whatever it was, and he wouldn't complain. His parents were present, at least for a little bit, and Makoto was by his side. Lunch, though it wasn't mackerel, was almost as good, and they didn't say a word about the drama that had now faded away into the past.

* * *

"Haru-chan!"

Haru gritted his teeth and caught himself on the edge of his locker as Nagisa threw himself onto his back.

"Nagisa," he scolded under a grunt. "Are you trying to break my back before we get the chance to swim?"

"Of course, not," Nagisa said, as though he didn't know why Haru would bring it up. He didn't let go either. In fact, he wrapped his arms around Haru's neck and his legs around his waist, crossing his bare feet to declare that he was now somewhat permanently latched onto Haru whether the older teen was going to agree to it or not.

Haru sighed, grabbed his goggles, and closed the locker.

"Certain victory!" Nagisa shouted, throwing a fist up into the air as Haru turned and started walking toward the locker room door, following the rest of the swimmers as they headed for the tunnel. Makoto and Rei seemed to have already drifted ahead, as Haru and Nagisa were the last to leave the room.

"Are you really going to make me carry you the whole way?" Haru said, huffing just a little bit. Nagisa wasn't exactly heavy, but it wasn't like he was used to carrying around little blonde-handed teenagers.

"It's for good luck," Nagisa said matter-of-factly.

"I'm pretty sure it's not," Haru responded, though he consented to tuck his arms under Nagisa's weight so he wouldn't slide off and drop to the floor. Turns out they actually needed him for the relay. And anyway, it wasn't all that uncomfortable. Maybe he wasn't used to carrying little blonde-headed teenagers, but Ren and Ran, in all honesty, weren't that much smaller than Nagisa.

"I have to ask you something," Nagisa said, propping his chin on Haru's head.

"What?"

"You seem considerably happier than you did before you left for Australia. And also, you and Makoto look comfortable with each other again. Were you able to talk?"

"Somewhat," Haru mumbled, glancing up to assess whether the rest of their team was in earshot.

Rei and Makoto were several yards ahead of them, engaged in their own conversation, which was apparently funny. Haru caught a soft smile trying to escape as his ears rang pleasantly with the echoes of Makoto's laugh. He adjusted Nagisa on his back and looked back at the floor.

They hadn't really gotten the chance to talk, no — not the way Haru wanted to. But he wasn't exactly worried about it. He knew it would happen, and probably much sooner than they were both anticipating. But for now it seemed they'd silently agreed that nationals needed their focus.

"Somewhat?" Nagisa said, as though mildly disappointed. "So that means you haven't had sex yet?"

Haru stiffened to a halt, face immediately burning. "Nagisa!" he hissed.

"Well you've had all this time. You and Makoto have been sleeping in the same room for the past two nights. What's the hold up?"

"We're not … I … You can't …" Haru huffed and gave the little knucklehead a good jostle. Nagisa giggled. "Nagisa," he chided. "That's not the kind of stuff you say in public."

He couldn't see it, but he could feel Nagisa beaming over his head. "I'm kidding, Haru-chan," he chuckled.

Haru sucked in a breath, forcing his heart to calm and began walking again.

"Mostly," Nagisa added under his breath. "You two do seem different though. You really haven't talked about it?"

The heat of embarrassment was surely taking its dear sweet time receding from Haru's face. "Not in so many words," he mumbled. "We will. It just hasn't been all that necessary yet. We're focused on the relay, and that's fine. We both know what's going on now anyway. It'll happen at the right time."

Nagisa sighed dreamily, nuzzling his cheek against the side of Haru's head. "Ahh, I'm so jealous of you two. You know each other so well, you don't even have to say anything out loud." He giggled with an excited shiver. "I hope me and Rei-chan get to be like that one day."

Haru slowed to a stop again, eyes still staring at the floor. His shoulders sagged.

"Haru-chan?" Nagisa questioned, peeking at his face. "What's wrong? Is your tummy upset?"

"No. I just … I have to apologize to you, Nagisa."

Nagisa jerked back with surprise. "To _me_? Why?"

Haru adjusted the little one on his back again and resumed moving forward. "I've been … a little bit jealous of you and Rei too, actually."

" _You've_ been jealous of _us_?"

Haru nodded. "It's impressive, how far you've come with him. He really cares about you, even if he's stubborn about admitting it. Everything seemed to be going so well for you, but me and Makoto were having a hard time, and because we don't always have to talk to each other to know things, we were struggling with getting our feelings out. I was jealous of how bold you are with Rei, that you're not scared to announce how you're feeling. I didn't think I'd ever be able to do that."

Nagisa hummed thoughtfully. "And now?"

Haru tilted his head with a sigh. "And now … I think I can do it, for Makoto's sake at least."

Nagisa laid his cheek on Haru's shoulder, and Haru glanced over at his smile. "I think you can too, Haru-chan. And I think it's going to be great. It's about damn time. I've been waiting for this to happen for years. So when it does, you have to call me."

Haru scoffed. "Years?"

"Haru-chan, literally _everybody_ knows you two are destined to be together for all of eternity. You're a strange duo, admittedly, but anyone who knows you understands that it just makes sense, and there's no arguing it. God's never made a more perfect-for-each-other pair of human beings."

The warmth blossomed across Haru's cheeks again, and he could feel the corner of his lips twitching with the threat of a flattered grin. He squinted instead and huffed a dramatic sigh.

"If you say so."

"What are you doing?"

They both looked up at the exasperated voice to find that Rei and Makoto had stopped to wait for them. Makoto's eyes were on Haru, his smile glittering with something like admiration, as though seeing Haru humor Nagisa with a piggyback ride was something cute. Haru cursed at not being able to hide his blushing cheeks.

Rei crossed his arms over his chest, deadpan eyes directed toward Nagisa. He shook his head once they caught up. "You are a nuisance to everyone you know."

Nagisa, knowing very well that Rei didn't mean a word of it, giggled. "You know just what to say to get a boy's heart pumping, don't you, Rei-chan."

Rei rolled his eyes, already reaching for his blonde companion. "Get down. You and your bottomless gut are going to break Haruka-senpai's spine."

"He was fine," Nagisa argued, throwing up his hands like a toddler, allowing Rei to peel him off of Haru's back. "Tell him you were fine, Haru-chan."

"You're heavier than you look," Haru mumbled, stretching out his back.

"Ah," Nagisa scoffed, waving a hand. "Anyway, Rei-chan," he exclaimed, grabbing Rei's hand and immediately beginning to swing it between them as the four of them continued on their way. "I expect to see your best butterfly today, you understand?"

Rei scoffed, lifting his chin. "Don't insult me. My butterfly will be the best in the water."

"Good. I am still responsible for you, you know. Everything you do reflects my recruiting abilities. Don't let me down out there."

"Don't make me laugh," Rei said dramatically. "It's hardly going to be a competition."

Haru and Makoto followed quietly in Rei and Nagisa's wake, both watching the duo with a tender spark of admiration, both aware of how close they were walking beside each other, though they didn't connect the gap between them, and that was fine.

Haru still felt a little warm from Nagisa's comments, and he knew Makoto could see it on him every time he glanced to the side. Haru never met his gaze, he didn't think he had the strength to at the moment. It wasn't bad, he just felt a little bit like a blushing teenager, which … quite literally he was. He just had never expected it to feel so delightfully uncomfortable. This was such a weird feeling. He was excited, but nervous, except also ready, and yet so far from it all at the same time.

He tried to occupy his thoughts with the relay, but that only held out for a few seconds, because he was so very aware of Makoto's consistent glances and they were throwing him off. What was he looking at? What was he looking _for_? Haru didn't know, and he wouldn't be able to tell, because he wasn't going to meet Makoto's gaze right now. His big emerald eyes were much too bright.

They finally made it through the tunnel and out onto the pool grounds, after eons it seemed. They all took a moment to stare up in wonder at the crowds of people filling the stadium. Seeing as they never made it this far last season, this was a relatively new experience. Nationals, capacity-wise, was on a very different level from all the other competitions they'd swam in.

Haru's eyes roamed the stands until he found his parents, sitting alongside the Tachibanas. Every single one of them already had their eyes on them and they all waved when they caught his eye. He nodded with enough exaggeration to acknowledge that he'd seen, and huffed with a mild smile when he heard Ren and Ran shouting their loudest good luck down to both him and Makoto. The Iwatobi team gathered behind their assigned starting block and began to stretch.

"This is so exciting!" Nagisa squealed, hopping on his toes. "It's like the whole world is here!"

"Stretch, Nagisa-kun," Rei said. He was already bending over, stretching out his back. He blindly reached a hand up and yanked Nagisa into the same position. "If you cramp up in the middle of the race, I'm not coming in to get you."

"That only happened once," Nagisa argued, practically stuffing his head between his knees. "And at least it was at practice."

"Check your math," Rei sighed, standing up straight to pull on his arms. "I've had to pull you out of the pool at least five times while you screamed about a Charley horse."

Nagisa giggled, swaying back and forth. "Actually, Rei-chan, I was faking it at least three of those times."

Rei pushed Nagisa's hip with his foot, and the blonde laughed as he caught his balance. They continued like this, and strangely enough, Haru found it rather peaceful this time. Maybe it was that hope he had never understood before. Maybe Nagisa didn't know it, or maybe he did, but it seemed he had shared a piece of it with Haru, put it in his pocket when he wasn't looking, and now it teemed in his ribcage like a river meeting with the ocean.

"I love you."

Haru froze. The whistle had just blown for the backstroke swimmers to get into position. He was still lazily pulling on his elbow behind his head, and Makoto had just muttered it under his breath, loud enough for Haru's ears only.

Haru looked to his right, dropping his arms slowly, his eyes wide.

Makoto was already watching him, cheeks and ears aflame with quiet passion, but it didn't seem to bother him that Haru could see it. He could see it all, way past the mien of calm, down into his chest where his heart was beating just as wildly as Haru's. It was impressive, how cool Makoto was being about it, and that was nothing like him, which was exactly what kept Haru from giving any kind of immediate response.

He just watched, his mouth slightly agape, as Makoto turned his gaze away and walked forward to jump down into the pool. Haru could feel his body leaning, insistent on keeping a good view of Makoto's face as he grabbed the handles underneath the block and wound his muscles tight. His eyes glanced up to Haru once more, and as they read the open pages of Haru's heart, a smile slowly pulled up his lips. Their gazes remained locked until the very last second, the gun sounded, and then Makoto led them off, with the most graceful dive yet, to certain victory.


	16. Chapter 16

The din of excited chatter was a muffled comfort to him as they flowed with the stream of other swimmers and their families out of the stadium. The season was over, and most everyone was leaving on a high. There were tears here and there, but any disappointments were mostly buried under the optimism of the future. There were younger siblings running about, squealing into the night, teammates slapping each other on the back, parents begging for their pride and joy to stop for a picture. There were glittering trophies being waved around, and the disjointed tinkling of medals thumping against several jacket zippers. The weight of the one around Haru's neck was secretly quite comfortable, and he very nearly caught himself smiling again as Nagisa ran off down the sidewalk with their trophy in the air. Rei, of course, chided him as he, his parents, and Nagisa's family followed. But there was a smile on the bespectacled swimmer's face too.

It was all joy, captured in one breath of a moment.

Haru's mother, who'd been intentionally keeping step with him, swung an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, musuko. You guys did a fantastic job."

Haru's response was a nod. He swung his gaze forward. His father was chatting jovially with Makoto's parents a few yards ahead, and beside them Makoto supported Ran on his back with one arm and entertained Ren with the other as his little brother clutched his bicep, giggling every time Makoto flexed and his feet left the ground. Haru felt a warmth spreading through his chest.

"Your father and I will have to come to more of your competitions when you get to college. I'm sorry we missed so many of them this season."

Haru blinked his gaze at his mother, quietly intrigued by the smile she gave him. He pressed his lips together and glanced off to the side again. "It's not a big deal."

His mother hummed a sigh and he could hear the weight in it, the honesty, the little twinge of sadness. "Well, in any case, I'm glad we got to make it today. You're a beautiful swimmer. And you and your friends make a good team."

At this he gave another nod, eyes looking up ahead of them again. "Yeah. We do."

"Oh," she said suddenly, patting his arm. "I meant to ask you what you wanted to talk about."

He furrowed his brow. "What I wanted to talk about?"

She nodded. "Mm hm. I missed a call from you not too long ago. I never got the chance to get back to you. Was everything alright?"

That heat in his chest became alarmingly intense as it travelled up to his cheeks and he tried not to let the stutter of his pulse show in his expression.

"Oh … Yeah, I got it worked out. It was nothing."

"Ah, I see." She pulled in a pacified breath this time and sighed again. "Well, honey, I'm glad you're doing well. I'm looking forward to the three of us being together for a while. I'm sorry your father and I are always away so often."

He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "It doesn't bother me that much. I know you have to work."

She hummed a chuckle and gave him another squeeze. "You always surprise me, Haruka."

He finally looked back over at her, and this time her smile tugged at something behind his ribs. "What do you mean?"

"You've always been so eerily mature," she said, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. "I hated leaving you alone at first, had all kinds of reservations about it. But then I realized there was nothing to worry about. You don't cause a fuss. You go to school like you're supposed to. The house stays in order, and everything's always right where we left it whenever we come home. It seems like you've really gotten the hang of handling your own time. I was going to be nervous about you going off to college, but it doesn't seem like that will be necessary either … Then again, you have had a pretty reliable friend taking care of you all this time, haven't you?"

At this his cheeks brightened, because there was a little smirk of implication hiding in her glittering eyes. He turned his gaze away, and it automatically rested on Makoto again, watching as he pulled off his medal and slipped it over his brother's head, beaming down at him when he thrust his fists into the air and ran off in a wide circle, screaming that he was a champion. Ran leapt down from Makoto's back to chase after her twin and demand that she had the right to be a champion too. Makoto calmly assured her that she could have a turn next.

"Yeah," Haru's voice said quietly, softly, nearly lost underneath the gratitude of Makoto being ninety percent of the reason he still existed right now.

"He gives me a call every now and then," his mother said, also watching Makoto with a smile of admiration. "Mostly just to say hi, but he always makes sure to let us know how you're doing."

This little tidbit was almost too much to absorb in this very vulnerable moment, during these freshly sentimental times. Of course Makoto would do something like that. And of course Haru wouldn't even know about it, because that damned green-eyed saint was too humble to go around announcing all the little things he did to keep Haru's life afloat in the background. And Haru was sure there was plenty more than this one thing he was just hearing about now. There was plenty more to it than Makoto getting up earlier than was necessary just to pick Haru up for school. Plenty more than Makoto barely giving a thought to sharing everything he owned, including his own family. Plenty more than the occasional affectionate touches, and making sure Haru's wordless voice was heard, and quietly monitoring his best friend to make sure he was eating right, and sleeping well, and breathing every day. There was a certain gusto that was required for caring for someone like that, and an additional tenacity was most certainly needed for caring for someone as stubborn and needy as Haruka.

The blue-eyed teen allowed the feeling of absolute awe to fill every inch of his body, tingling through his veins from his heels to the crown of his head.

"I'm glad you have him," his mother said.

And he nodded without hesitation. "Yeah … Me too."

His mother chuckled to herself again, and they finally reached the point in the parking lot in which it was time to part ways. He allowed her to hug him tightly, not at all bothered by it in this moment even though he was too grown for these kinds of things. There were a lot of things he'd fallen into the habit of taking for granted, and he knew that needed to stop. So he listened to her heartbeat, not so much with his ears, but with the pulse in his own blood, which matched her's so perfectly. He hugged her back, allowed her to kiss him on the forehead, and nodded to his father who ruffled his hair and promised they'd all see each other in a few weeks.

Watching them walk away was something mesmerizing. He felt nothing but full, which was an experience he'd never come across before, and he couldn't pinpoint why this was a thing, until he heard that voice call out to him from over his shoulder.

"Haru-chan."

Haru turned and was once again met by that cloud of warmth that touched his chest as Makoto smiled and stretched a hand out to him.

"Let's go. We don't want the others to beat us back."

It took no effort at all, no break in his gaze, no thought of hesitation in his mind to walk forward and slide his hand into Makoto's. Their fingers laced themselves together without any prompting, and Haru followed behind the rest of the Tachibanas, completely satisfied. There were no holes in his life. His parents were already gone, but with Makoto keeping in step with him, there was no reason to be sad about it.


	17. Chapter 17

"Don't stop me nooow —"

"Cuz I'm having a good time!"

"Don't stop me nooow —"

"Yes, I'm having a good time …"

"I don't want to stop at all!"

He had to very intentionally narrow his eyes to keep himself from chuckling. Rei and Nagisa were leaping in bounds around his sitting room as though someone had slipped something into their drinks. The karaoke machine that Nagisa had brought over was cranked up to it's full volume, distorting the sound so that barely any of the lyrics could be heard, which, in Nagisa's case especially, were being wailed out in very broken English anyway. Rei, every now and then, shouted over the music to repeat what the words were supposed to sound like, but Nagisa was lost in a world of head-banging.

Amakata-sensei and Gou were off to the side, red in the face with giggles, occasionally singing along when they knew the parts. Coach Sasabe and Makoto's parents had elected to linger around just outside of the room, where they had a mild chance of better hearing their conversation but could still smile at the chaos. The twins, for a while, were dancing in circles around Rei and Nagisa, until Ran ran off and leapt at Haru before he could turn away from the scene. Ren followed, and they were both hanging on his arms in no time.

"Oniisan!" they squealed, tugging at his wrists.

"We want more pizza!"

"More pizza!"

Haru was already heading for the kitchen anyway, so he allowed them to pull his arms behind him and drag their heels on the floor like they were water skiers.

"More pizza!"

"More pizza!"

"I didn't hear any pleases," he said, as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, where Makoto was grilling mackerel on the stove.

"Pleeeeease!" they chorused, finally releasing their grip so he could dig into the pizza boxes on the counter.

He felt Makoto look over in his direction with a smile, but didn't acknowledge it.

"What kind do you want?"

"Cheese!"

"There's only one slice of cheese left."

They both shot their hands in the air and crowded around his waist, each of them trying to squeeze their way the closest to the counter as though this would get them what they wanted.

"I want it!" they shouted simultaneously. Then they wrinkled their noses at each other.

"No, I want it!"

"No, I want it!"

"One of you can have pepperoni," Haru said, completely unbothered about being jostled between them as they argued. "Just take the toppings off."

"Aww," Ran whined, pouting. "But it's not the same."

"Yes, it is."

"Nuh uh, you can taste it," Ren argued.

"Fine," Haru sighed. "Whoever brings me their plate the fastest gets the slice of cheese."

They took off immediately, pushing and arguing between each other on their way back to the sitting room. Haru took advantage of the moment to extract a knife from the drawer and cut the one slice of cheese pizza down the middle. Makoto giggled, his eyes on the mackerel, but his smile somewhere else completely.

The twins' feet thundered back through the hallway, along with their mother's voice telling them to slow down. As expected, they rammed into Haru's back at the same time, thankfully not before he had the chance to put the knife down first.

"I won!" they cried in unison.

"No, I won!"

"No, you were too slow!"

Haru dropped both halves of the pizza slice on each of their plates. "There. Congratulations. No running with food in your hands."

They both beamed happily and turned to flounce off again, except that Makoto stopped them with a chiding cough.

"Excuse me, can I hear some manners?"

They both turned halfway and bobbed their heads. "Thank you, Oniisan!" they chorused, then disappeared quickly before anyone else could stop them.

Makoto, who had glanced over his shoulder at them, smirked at their backs and shook his head to himself as he turned back to the stove and turned it off. Haru was already preparing a plate with his own long awaited slices of pineapple pizza on it. He handed it over to Makoto.

"You're a natural, you know," he said, sliding the grilled fish directly on top of Haru's pizza.

"I'm glad it seems that way," he said, watching with great anticipation while Makoto insisted on positioning the fish just right. "In reality, it's only taken me something like ten years to get good at dealing with them."

Makoto chuckled, eyes glancing to the side with a spark of approval. "Don't sell yourself short. You've always been good with them."

"Only because I've been watching you do it," Haru mumbled, taking his plate gratefully when Makoto finally handed it over.

The taller teen grinned with quiet appreciation and leaned against the kitchen counter as Haru elected to test Makoto's cooking on the spot. Those green eyes watched, highly anticipant. Haru took a large bite and chewed thoughtfully.

Makoto waited a few seconds, then raised an eyebrow when there was no immediate comment. "Good?"

Haru lifted half a shrug. In truth, it was perfect. Makoto apparently had spent way too many mornings standing over Haru's shoulder, watching him prepare his favorite meal. He had the recipe down to a T — to the number of salt grains in each bite and everything. But the aloof problem child didn't want to make a big deal of it and give this amateur chef a big head.

"It's fine," he said, playing it cool even though he knew Makoto could see right through him.

Makoto snickered through his nose. Haru held the pizza out in front of his mouth and Makoto took a bite. He contemplated it as he chewed, then nodded and turned away to clean off the grill pan.

"It's good … Don't know about the pineapple though."

"The pineapple makes it," Haru said definitively.

Makoto scoffed. "The pineapple … The pineapple that probably came out of a can, not my perfectly grilled fish?"

"I would have made it myself if I knew you were going to complain."

"You were helping Nagisa set up the karaoke machine. I couldn't let you starve. And anyway, you're the one being unappreciative right now."

Haru huffed through his nose, taking his turn to lean against the counter this time, munching with great internal satisfaction on his pizza while Makoto cleaned.

"Fine. Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Nanase."

Haru brushed his eyes over, wrinkling his nose at his best friend, who was already smirking. "How dare you."

Makoto's shoulders shook as he giggled. He looked up with a clueless gaze. "Hm? What's the matter?"

"I draw the line there, you understand. I've been telling you to drop the –chan for years, but you're not about to call me by my last name, especially not in my own house."

Makoto tilted his head, a devious grin splitting his face. "You mean, you actually _like_ it when I call you –chan?"

Haru punched him in the shoulder and Makoto burst into unfiltered laughter, his smile wide and glittering. He was truly handsome when he smiled like that. The butterflies in the stomach thing was something Haru had never truly believed in, because he didn't get the concept, but now that it was nothing foreign, he fully understood what the expression meant.

"You are secretly a tease, and I'm going to expose you one day," Haru threatened under his breath, only making Makoto laugh harder. His knees became weak and he sank down into a crouch, one hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep him from falling over.

"Do your worst," he gasped, hardly able to get the words to come out straight.

Haru shook his head down at him. "You're so going to get it."

Makoto giggled through his nose, then sniffed and pressed the back of his hand to it as though to catch the laughter from falling out.

"Is that a promise?" he said, voice hidden under his palm as his eyes peeked up, shimmering with joyful tears and a flirtatious glimmer.

Haru just stared, their gazes now locked on one another as something tensed between them, except, not at all in an undesirable way. Makoto seemed to realize the implications he'd let slip through his tone, and his face deepened in color. He didn't move, but he did fully press his palm against his mouth as though to be sure he wouldn't embarrass himself anymore.

Truthfully, Haru was just trying not to let on how very excited he'd suddenly gotten in that moment … He liked this side of Makoto.

"I can make it a promise," he said quietly.

Makoto pinched his nose and turned his face away under his arm, but Haru could see the blush rushing up to his ears. "You're making it worse."

Haru's grin curled up quietly. He set down his plate and took a step closer, while Makoto stood to his full height again, still looking in the opposite direction. Haru leaned his hip against the counter, tilting his head at an attempt to peek around Makoto's broad shoulder.

"Was it bad to begin with?"

"Jesus, Haru," Makoto whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder as though checking to make sure no one was around to see how badly Haru was making him blush.

It was Haru's turn to chuckle. "You get so worked up over the smallest things."

Makoto finally glanced back in his direction. He let out a long breath and forced himself to go back to cleaning, shoulders defensively drawn up. "You make me nervous," he mumbled.

The ebony-haired teenager let his head dip even more. "Why?"

"Haru," Makoto hissed, because they both very well knew the answer to that.

Haru shrugged. "You started it."

Makoto scoffed, relaxing a smidgen. "I did not."

"Did too."

"When?"

Haru adjusted his lean, arm nearly brushing Makoto's. "When you told me you loved me and then jumped into the pool right before our relay," he said in all seriousness, because it hadn't left his mind for a moment all day.

Makoto's cheeks brightened. He bit at the inside of his lip and shifted his gaze away when Haru lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"You want to take it back?"

"No," Makoto said into the sink, his voice small. "I meant it."

Haru kept his gaze where it was and Makoto did his utmost to avoid it. The tension was twice as thick now. Haru wanted to talk about it — wanted to _do_ something about it — but Makoto was being finicky, as though there was still something to hide, when they both knew there wasn't.

"How was I supposed to respond?" he pressed, gaze intentionally severe.

Makoto lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "I don't know. I didn't think that far."

"How would you like me to respond now?"

Makoto swallowed and Haru watched it. He waited, and after a long pause, Makoto's magnificent green eyes turned to meet his blue ones. They stared at each other, fed on one another's souls with ease and without resistance. The kitchen was hot, and the air was hard to breathe, but the pressure was exhilarating. It just made him a bit antsy, that was all. He was ready to have this conversation, both knowing and hoping that it would reach beyond the boundaries of just a conversation. He just didn't quite know what that looked like exactly, and he was eager to find out.

"Haru-chan!"

Makoto yelped with surprise and slapped a hand over his mouth as Nagisa burst into the kitchen. The flustered brunet dipped his head to hide his red skin, free hand clutching tightly at the sink. Haru swept his gaze across the room. Nagisa was oblivious.

"It's your turn!"

"Nagisa," Haru said, his voice more breathless than he had anticipated. "The one condition for letting you bring that obnoxious thing into this house …"

Nagisa whined, dropping his head back. "Haru-chaaan."

"What did I say?"

The blonde pursed his lips and grumbled under his breath.

"I'm not singing," Haru stated.

"Fine." He skipped across the room and snatch Makoto by the elbow. "Then it's your turn, Mako-chan."

"No, no, no," Makoto protested frantically, dragging his feet as Nagisa grunted through his teeth, pulling him with both hands clasped around his arm. "Nagisa, I don't sing."

"Don't be such a scaredy-cat. You probably have the voice of an angel."

"Nagisa!"

But Nagisa was somehow successful at hauling all of Makoto's weight out of the kitchen and pushing him into the sitting room. Haru sighed and followed, silently vowing that he would get onto Nagisa for single-handedly ruining a moment.

There wasn't another one for the next couple of hours, nor was there any room for one as long as Haru's home was teeming with people. He accepted it for now, only because everyone was having fun, and it was an appropriate time to do so, seeing as this was their last moment together as a team.

Somehow, someway, Nagisa played his charm card and managed to get a microphone into Makoto's hand. He was shy about it, at first hardly whispering the song that his brother and sister forced him to pick, but then Nagisa began to wail along in his own microphone and the same chaos that Haru had lingered around to watch before started up again. Ran grabbed Makoto's freehand and swung it around, encouraging him to dance along with the rest of them. Haru smiled, but hid it behind his knees while he sat on the futon in the back, watching. Makoto could feel his gaze, and peeked over his shoulder, only deepening Haru's amusement by acting all embarrassed and lighting up like a stoplight again. But Ren, Ran, and Nagisa wouldn't allow him to quit, so he was forced to perform another three songs.

When he was finally set free, everyone applauded, and he sulked over to Haru's side and plopped down next to him, whining as he hid his face in his hands. Haru patted his back.

They watched the rest of the show from that spot. Eventually, Makoto calmed down and relaxed, leaning back comfortably. Haru crossed his legs at some point, his right knee leaning against Makoto's thigh for a while. The twins bum rushed them once they got bored, and Haru and Makoto each took one and wrestled them down into a tickle fight, where they squirmed and giggled and kicked their feet. Then their adrenaline wore off, and it wasn't long before they were slumped on either side of the boys, Ran's cheek pressed into Haru's ribs, Ren's head in Makoto's lap. Mrs. Tachibana gave it about fifteen minutes before she and her husband came over to relieve them of the twins and told Makoto to let them know when he was settled in for the night. Mrs. Tachibana granted Haru a kiss on the forehead and informed him that they'd already made plans for a big family dinner once his parents officially made it back.

The noise level quieted down, and Nagisa agreed to turn off the karaoke machine in favor of a card game. Coach Sasabe and Amakata-sensei chatted amongst themselves as the five teenagers teased each other and argued about rules. Then Gou gave up when Nagisa insisted he wasn't cheating, and declared she had to get home. Amakata-sensei, who had agreed to drive her, waved her goodbyes to the boys, and Coach Sasabe walked out behind them, declaring that he was leaving the rest of the pizza. Then it was the four swimmers for a long while, flip-flopping between games because Nagisa couldn't make up his mind about what he wanted to do.

"Never have I ever … pet a tiger."

A collective sigh dispersed across the room.

"Nagisa-kun, the point is to try to get everyone else out. You know that right?"

Nagisa was lying on his back on the futon, head hanging upside down over the edge, arm dangling with three fingers up. The heels of his feet were propped up against the wall. The rest of them were lounging on the floor.

"You mean, you've never pet a tiger, Rei-chan?" Nagisa said, a sleepy slur to his words as he peered at Rei with half-lidded eyes.

"Of course I haven't." Rei had his back against the futon next to Nagisa's head, his legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He still had all five fingers up.

"Mm … Haru-chan, Mako-chan? No tigers?"

"That's a joke right?" Makoto said, four fingers raised. He and Haru sat across from the other two, using each other's shoulders for support.

Nagisa let out a drunken giggle and kicked his foot. "You guys crack me up."

"You are so tired," Rei said, shaking his head.

Nagisa tried to lift his head, but didn't seem to have the muscle strength in his neck. "I'm wide awake. It's your turn."

Rei sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Never have I ever … successfully swam backstroke."

Makoto and Nagisa groaned in unison and each put a finger down.

"Cheap shot," Nagisa mumbled.

"Haruka-senpai, you've _never_ swam backstroke?" Rei said, lifting an eyebrow.

"I only swim free."

Nagisa cracked up again. "You're such a liar. You just don't want to admit it, cuz you only have two fingers left."

"I only swim free."

Makoto giggled.

"Alright," Nagisa said, lazily waving a hand over his head. "I'll give it to you. Your turn."

"Never have I ever been six feet tall."

Makoto scoffed. "You can't do that!"

"That's the point of the game."

"Put a finger down, Mako-chan," Nagisa said.

Makoto sighed and consented, knowing arguing against the questionable parameters of this game was pointless. "Never have I ever been to Australia."

"Oooh, backhand!" Nagisa giggled. "Haru-chan, are you out yet?" He attempted to lift his head again.

"I still have one," Haru said mildly, holding up his middle finger.

Nagisa burst into laughter. Rei attempted to hide a chuckle. Makoto gasped and threw his hands over Haru's, forcing his finger down.

"Haru!" he whined.

"That was for you," he said, unable to stifle the snicker that escaped him as he pulled to get his hands back.

Makoto forced Haru's palms together and covered both of his hands with one of his own, pulling them over to hold them captive in his lap.

"Haru still has one. Nagisa, it's your turn."

"Mmm … Never have I ever …"

Nagisa's voice trailed off, and they all looked to him as his arm dropped like a noodle, eyes closed, mouth open.

"Nagisa," Rei called, shaking his shoulder.

Nagisa jolted. "Twenty-five over thirty-six! Forest penguins …" His head dropped again, and he began to snore.

Makoto giggled.

"Alright," Rei sighed, pushing himself to his feet. "Time to go home, Mr. Sunflower." He took Nagisa's arms and tugged on them to flip him over.

"You can leave him," Makoto said, to which Haru slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. "Ow." He furrowed his brow at Haru, rubbing the sting away. "It's late, Haru-chan. What else are they supposed to do? You are incredible." He didn't mean it as a compliment.

Rei chuckled, already successful at having gotten Nagisa into somewhat of a sitting position. He bent his knees, pulled Nagisa's arms over his shoulders and hiked him up onto his back.

"It's alright," he said, exhaling comfortably as he adjusted the sleeping boy until he was satisfied, then looped his arms under his knees. Nagisa's forehead dropped onto his shoulder. "I'll bring him home. He's supposed to be going out with his family in the morning anyway."

Makoto stood and Haru followed.

"You're sure?" Mother Hen asked, brow bent, hand hovering over Nagisa's back as though afraid he might slip off as Rei made his way out of the room.

"Yep," Rei said, not a concern in the world about having to lug a passed out Nagisa all the way home. "You'd be surprised. Kid usually knocks out five minutes into the train ride on the way home from school. I've lost track of how many times I've done this by now."

Based on Nagisa's track record, Haru was pretty sure most of those times were illegitimate as Nagisa probably faked it often, but he said nothing about it. In fact, something in him got the distinct feeling that Rei already knew that.

Makoto though, kept on asking if Rei was sure all the way up to the front door, and then finally consented to give their runner a hand by sliding Nagisa's shoes onto his dangling feet. Haru grabbed their bags and, upon Rei's instruction, stuffed Nagisa's nearly empty one into Rei's and hung it around them both. Rei tapped the toes of his shoes on the floor to make sure his feet were in and crossed out into the night as Makoto slid the door open for him.

"We'll see you guys Monday," he said, already making his way off the stoop.

"Okay," Makoto called to his back.

They watched him for a moment, still, quiet. And then, just before Rei and Nagisa disappeared into the shadows, Makoto tilted his head.

"Rei!"

Rei turned.

The very corner of Makoto's lips lifted in a perceptive smile. "Is it working?" he said, his tone incredulous but pleasantly so. And all three of them knew what he was talking about.

Haru could just see Rei's shoulders rising and falling, and then he looked over at the curly blonde head on his shoulder. A soft, but incredibly expressive, smile pulled on Rei's lips.

"Maybe a little," he said, his voice barely catchable in the space between them. He turned his eyes back up to them. "But don't you dare tell him that. I'm going to drag this out as long as I can."

Makoto giggled and nodded curtly. "Our lips are sealed."

Rei kicked up his chin and turned on his heel. "Goodnight."

"Let us know when you get home, alright." Makoto waved at his back.

"Will do!"

Makoto stuffed his hand in his back pocket. Haru leaned a palm on the open door. They both watched as Rei and Nagisa's silhouette dissolved into the night, and then they stared out at nothing. An anticipant quiet brushed past their cheeks as the summer breeze skipped through the door frame. The tinkling of wind chimes echoed out through the neighborhood from all different directions. A few abandoned leaves scraped across the pavement and the chirping of cicadas had turned into white noise in the background.

It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky and a bright moon, but they remained where they were, hovering in the doorway on the inside of Haru's house, just watching the night do what it would do as though expecting something interesting to come along and break up the stillness. But nothing did, and so the moment stretched on, until the tension became too needy to be ignored anymore.

Haru let his eyes drift to Makoto, whose green gaze was staring down the path thoughtfully, as though contemplating the short walk home. But he didn't move, and he didn't say anything. Haru made an obvious shift, successfully attracting Makoto's attention. And they found themselves staring again, speaking so many things to one another in their silence that it started to become loud and convoluted.

Haru set his shoulders, took hold of the door handle, and slowly slid it closed, keeping his eyes locked on Makoto, who didn't blink either. He could feel the collective anxiety in each of their heartbeats, like they were electric pulses accelerating with each inch of space that was lost between them. Haru knew Makoto could feel it too, but he kept his expression straight.

They were alone now. And the silence that settled around the house was intensely noticeable.

Haru bit at the inside of his lip as discreetly as he possibly could. He didn't want Makoto to know the extent of the anticipation rushing through his veins right now. He kept it cool, and it took a surprising amount of effort to do so. He was normally very good at this.

"Stay with me," he said quietly, his voice hardly lifting from his tongue.

Makoto's chest rose as he took in a silent breath. He nodded. "Okay," he said, voice just as soft. He finally dropped his gaze and dug in his pocket to pull out his phone. "I'll tell my parents —"

Haru laid a hand over the phone, pushing it down out of the way, because he wasn't going to allow interruptions anymore. He took a step closer. Makoto's eyes lifted to his again, cheeks already blossoming with color.

"No, Makoto," Haru said gently, forcing the words to come out evenly. "Stay with me."

Makoto's jaw fluttered. He did his best to try and read everything behind Haru's gaze, to understand the underside of his tone, and Haru could feel that a part of Makoto soaked in every bit of implication that was there to be recognized, but another part of him was too nervous to admit that. He swallowed, fingers twitching, because Haru's hand remained on top of his.

"We'll … f-figure something out," he said timidly. "When you think about it, Tokyo's really not that far. Maybe we could —"

Haru had long since rolled his eyes. He stood up on his toes and placed a kiss on Makoto's lips. It wasn't long, it wasn't gushing with passion, it wasn't rushed, it wasn't slow, it wasn't even awkward. It was just a soft peck, like the period at the end of a statement, and yet Makoto altogether stopped breathing.

"No, Makoto … _stay with me_ ," Haru repeated, truly putting as much definition into each word as he could.

Makoto's face was completely flushed, but after a while, the shock in his gaze mellowed down to a shy glimmer of desire. His eyes dropped to Haru's lips, then darted back up. He was leaning, but Haru was sure he didn't realize it. His lungs seemed to start up again, and his breath was short. He nodded distantly.

"Always, Haru-chan," he breathed. "I'm not going anywhere."

They moved simultaneously this time. Haru propped himself on his toes again and Makoto dipped his head to meet him. Their lips touched with the briefest second of hesitation, and then all reservations quickly dissipated. It seemed to be half instinct, half intention, like blindly finding one's way through a familiar space. He'd never kissed Makoto before, but he knew him so well that reading into his motions — even with his eyes now closed — became a reflex that he didn't realize had been hiding up his sleeve, just waiting for this moment to happen. And Makoto reacted similarly.

They parted their lips at the same time, found the proper way to fit them together, and eased into a rhythm that made Haru's stomach flip backward as Makoto sighed through his nose. The taller of the two slipped his arms around Haru's waist, keeping him supported to adjust for their height difference. Haru's fingers gripped the collar of Makoto's shirt, as though afraid to lose this, though he was sure Makoto was not at all eager to part.

He wasn't sure which one of them did it first, but their tongues came into play very quickly, darting around each other in a delicious dance that made them both shiver. Their breathing was forced to adjust and adjust again, becoming short and heavy because their hearts were beating out of their chests, as though reaching for one another, longing to get closer, be closer, as close as possible.

It was exhilarating, to say the least, and as much as he'd been waiting for it, he couldn't say he was ready for the incredible swell of desire that something as small as a passionate kiss invoked. He wasn't going to complain though, and Makoto's eagerness seemed to match him at about the same level. It sparked, like flames licking their skin, making them tingle, making them dizzy, slightly throwing off their equilibrium.

Haru stumbled forward a bit, but Makoto's arms were so firmly encased around him that he didn't go anywhere. And now their chests were very nearly pressed against each other, their pulses loud.

"Makoto …"

Makoto's response was a weightless moan that hit Haru in the stomach and rolled right down through his hips. He didn't want this to end, didn't even want it to pause, but he knew if he didn't speak now, he wouldn't be able to express it right later.

He pulled back. "Makoto …"

Makoto dropped his forehead against Haru's, unable to speak as he attempted to catch his breath. Haru peeked up through their bangs. The stunning young man holding him was so rosy, so visibly soaked in a yearning he'd never allowed to show before, and it gave Haru chills. He put a grip on Makoto's chin, grabbing his attention again, because he needed him to look, to see how serious Haru was in this moment, how fiercely he felt about him.

"I'm coming with you," he said heavily.

Makoto blinked, chest still heaving.

"To Tokyo," Haru said. "I'm coming with you. There are tons of schools there. Plenty of options for —"

Makoto tackled him, though it didn't seem like he meant to. His eyes had already widened, a broad smile split his face, and then he jumped with a toss of his weight, misjudging the already fragile integrity of Haru's balance, and they fell to the floor. Makoto's weight took the wind out of him, but it was a brief discomfort that dissolved the moment he noticed that Makoto had thought to save the back of his head from hitting the floor. The giddy brunet was laughing with breathless giggles, already pressing a series of kisses onto Haru's mouth.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped. Kiss. "I'm sorry, Haru." Kiss. "I got so excited. I'm sorry."

Haru allowed himself to laugh too, though it was quite airless. The unadulterated joy on Makoto's face made up for every moment of pain he had ever experienced across the entirety of his life. He was quite comfortable, more than so, with the way their legs were tangled together, with the warmth of Makoto's body pressed on top of him.

"Stop apologizing," he said, meeting all of Makoto's frantic kisses.

"I'm sorry," he said again anyway. "Are you hurt?"

He started to push himself up, but Haru snatched his collar to stop him. "No," he said quickly, pulling him back down. "I like this. Stay here."

"Okay," Makoto breathed, without a second's hesitation.

The passionate kissing started again, and the temperature of everything rose very quickly. Makoto's fingers were gripping his hair now, and Haru's hands roamed his torso, evaluating each rise and fall of his carefully sculpted muscles. Because of Makoto's mild and meek demeanor, it was very easy to forget how much literal, physical strength he carried around every day, but Haru could feel it, just in sliding his fingers down the dip in his back, could feel the tension, could feel the control, could feel the potency. He was so attractive, so tempting.

Haru's hands paused on Makoto's waist, gripping his shirt as he dipped in and out of ripples of pleasure, so very aware of the extremely miniscule movements of their hips. So hesitant that it was just barely there, but also incredibly noticeable. His chest began to ache, trying to contain the frantic muscle behind his ribcage. He contemplated, for a while, whether or not to fully commit to it, but such a thing had to be considered carefully, because it could end up flying off in a number of different directions, most of which, he had no problem with. But as it was, Makoto became suddenly still, and pulled away, turning his face to the side as though to hide it.

Haru didn't know what that was about, but he had to catch his breath first, so he rested his head back into Makoto's palm, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his pulse to leave his ears, trying not to be disappointed with himself for hesitating too long. Then he felt the tremble in Makoto's shoulders. He turned to look at the back of his hair, and caught the motion of Makoto wiping his face.

Haru's brow furrowed. "Are you crying?"

Makoto let out a shaky laugh, but he already gave himself away in just that. Haru could hear it in his voice, and Makoto dropped his face into his palm, covering his eyes, obviously trying to recovery quickly, but it didn't seem to be working.

Haru pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What's wrong?"

Makoto adjusted too. He propped himself on his knees, straddling Haru's waist. He was still trying to wipe the tears away, but now that Haru could see them, they seemed incredibly persistent. Makoto figured this out, and dropped his forehead onto Haru's chest.

"Makoto …" Haru lifted a hand and gingerly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to understand, but really not getting it. He didn't know why this moment would invoke this kind of emotion. Had he done something wrong? Been too blunt? Moved too fast?

"I'm sorry," Makoto said, his voice warbled. He sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheeks. Haru could still feel some of the tears hitting his shirt though.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Makoto laughed again, and Haru wasn't sure how to read the sentiment behind it. Also, he was even more thrown off when Makoto lifted his head and gave him a wet peck on the lips. Then he sat back, weight lightly resting on Haru's thighs. Haru said nothing, just watched him.

"I'm not sad," the weeping man assured him, passing down a watery smile, still trying to clear his face. A crease appeared in his forehead. "I think I'm just relieved," he sighed, sniffing. He tilted his head back, looking toward the ceiling with shining eyes.

"I've been so unsure about this for years," he admitted. "I don't think there's ever been a moment I wasn't in love with you, and sometimes … it hurt _so_ much." He grimaced and dropped his head again, this time using both hands to cover his face, voice muffled as he continued to speak. "There were days it got so overwhelming, it made me sick. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I didn't know if you would ever feel the same way. I didn't want to mess up the relationship we had already, so I just kept quiet about it. I was terrified." The next words came out in a moan. "This is like a dream. It's so surreal. I don't want to wake up."

Haru felt a pang of sympathy twist at his heart. Thanks to Nagisa, he had been able to connect the puzzle pieces about Makoto's true feelings, but that had only come together just recently. Poor Makoto had had to sit in an unrequited love for years, embodying everything Haru needed to survive but never being shown the same love and care in return.

Haru's shoulders sank. He reached up and pulled Makoto's hands away from his face, then pinched his chin and pulled him down to kiss the tears away from his cheeks. He slid his hand around to Makoto's hair and pressed their foreheads together.

"You're already awake," he said, closing his eyes and tenderly rubbing the tips of his fingers into Makoto's scalp. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I've been selfish and it's made you miserable."

Makoto shook his head, trying to meet Haru's eyes and deny it. "No, Haru —"

Haru lifted his face and pressed their lips together, just holding them there for a while until he felt Makoto's muscles unravel. He looked up into those beautiful green eyes when he pulled away and exhaled a long sigh.

"I love you." He could see Makoto's heart jumping behind his eyes, noticed his ears immediately burning red, but he went on. "I think I always have. I just … didn't know I was falling _in_ love with you until I realized how scared I was of being separated from you … You're part of my dream, you know."

Makoto's lips trembled, but he smiled. He nuzzled Haru's face affectionately. "You've always been part of mine."

Haru took advantage of their closeness to place another kiss on his lips. He was never going to get tired of doing that. "Thank you for always being there, Makoto."

A strained breath escaped through Makoto's nose and he covered his face again.

Haru chuckled. "No more crying."

Makoto laughed, giving rise to a breathless sob at the same time. Haru found it endearing. He sat up all the way and ducked under Makoto's hands for another kiss, which carried all the same passion but lasted only a moment. Then they wrapped their arms around each other in a comforting embrace and just sat that way for a long time.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is it! Last chapter, and a big big thank you for everyone who has made it this far. Thank you for all of your comments, and kudos, and encouragements. They are very much appreciated. This is the first ever story I have posted on AO3, and you have all made it a very pleasant experience :) I do plan to post more stories, so keep checking in! Other than that, enjoy the last chapter!

It was natural, walking through the school halls with their fingers intertwined. They were taken in by several eyes, but none of them seemed surprised. One boy from Class 3 even clapped his hands when he saw them walking past. Makoto blushed, but Haru felt a little swell of pride that he would never admit to.

He liked this. This felt right. And it was no wonder why the consolidation of their relationship was being applauded. This had taken much too long to happen, and Haru fully acknowledged that. Most everyone seemed to fully acknowledge that. Even their teacher glanced at their hands when they entered the classroom together and then turned away with a smile. Nothing was said directly to them, but there was a general wave of whispers wherever they went, mostly accompanied by grins, though there were maybe one or two girls who looked disappointed.

There was one girl, for instance, who hissed out a curse when she saw them taking their seats, and then her friends all giggled hysterically. Both Haru and Makoto glanced over. The one girl was hiding her face in her hands, but the others winked and all gave them a thumbs-up.

Haru looked away unfazed. Makoto chuckled half-heartedly and massaged his temples as he stared down at his desk, ears bright red. Haru smiled at him, because he thought it adorable. He was glad most people were keeping their comments to themselves though, otherwise poor Makoto wouldn't last the day.

Haru picked up his desk and scooted it close enough to brush Makoto with his elbow. Those green eyes glanced over, most of him still hunched over his desk as though trying to disappear. Haru cocked his head and blinked.

Makoto sighed. "I'm not embarrassed. I'd just rather not be the center of attention … Did you know all of these people knew?" he added under a whisper, thoroughly perplexed.

Haru thought of what Nagisa had said before the relay at nationals and stuffed down his amusement. Turns out, when Nagisa said _everybody_ , he meant _everybody_. Haru shrugged.

"What does it matter?"

"I feel like we were the last ones to catch on."

Haru lifted a small grin. "No … We were just the last ones to admit it to ourselves."

Makoto exhaled through his nose, glancing to the side thoughtfully, then nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's true."

Haru lifted a hand, gesturing for Makoto to come close as though to tell him a secret. Makoto leaned in with his ear and Haru kissed his temple. A loud, chorused squeal made Makoto jump. They looked over their shoulders at the two girls sitting directly behind them, both of whom hid the bottom halves of their faces with their hands and giggled with glittering eyes. Makoto moaned and dropped his forehead to his desk. Haru smiled again. He ran his fingers through Makoto's hair. This didn't exactly quiet the peanut gallery, but Makoto seemed comforted by it.

* * *

Haru was excited for lunch, but then he remembered that they shared the rooftop with other people. He and Makoto weren't holding hands when Rei and Nagisa joined them, but they were sitting closer to each other than usual, shoulders leaning into one another. Nagisa and Rei, being the two people who spent the most time around them, were supposed to have been used to this, but Nagisa immediately became skeptical, and he watched them with narrowed eyes for the whole first ten minutes of lunch, in which nothing was said about it.

The rest of them acted normal, minus the once or twice when Haru shot Nagisa a look. Rei and Makoto were the ones being chatty Cathys today, discussing the results of nationals for a while, bringing up the names of other teams, agreeing that, yes, there was still plenty of time to get some good use out of the school pool.

"We should have a barbecue," Nagisa perked up suddenly, finally taking his attention away from Haru and Makoto for a second.

"Where would we do that?" Rei asked.

"By the pool, of course."

"We're not allowed to start fires on school campus!"

"It would be in the grill though."

"That's still the same. Where are you going to get a grill, and how would you even get it here anyway?"

"Well, Rei-chan …"

Haru lost interest already. He turned to Makoto, who was still amused, and patted his knee. Makoto glanced up, reading Haru's gaze, then looked down and noticed that Haru had run out of mackerel to eat. He sighed, amused, and shook his head. He picked up a piece from his own lunch that Haru knew he'd had his mom add to his bento box just for Haru to eat. Makoto lifted his chopsticks and placed the bite of fish into Haru's open mouth.

The blue-eyed boy chewed it happily, and the other gave him a look that said, _You do this on purpose_. Haru didn't deny it.

"… will not be expelled just because you want to have a barbecue," Rei was still going on.

Nagisa's eyes had left him though, the moment Makoto had lifted his hand, and he watched with thorough interest as Makoto cheerfully fed Haru two more bites of fish. Makoto then said something to Rei, and as he did, Haru caught a sly smile creeping across Nagisa's face.

"We never finished our game," he announced, rocking back on his tailbone, legs crossed.

"What game?" Rei said.

"Never Have I Ever, the one we were playing at Haru's party."

"That was a party?" Haru mumbled.

"So what?" Rei shrugged, glancing to Nagisa as he took a bite of his lunch.

"So, let's finish it."

"Why?"

"Because we didn't finish before."

"Why do we need to finish it?"

Nagisa lifted his chin. "Rei-chan," he said suggestively, winking his eye multiple times. "We need to finish the game."

Rei wrinkled his nose. "Why are you winking?"

Nagisa scoffed. "Rei-chan …"

"What?"

Nagisa tossed his head in Haru and Makoto's direction, but none except Haru knew what he was getting at. Even Makoto furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Nagisa, are you having a heatstroke?" he asked, half-serious.

Rei snickered.

Nagisa ignored this and threw his arm up over his head, sticking up two fingers. "We're playing, starting now. Do you remember how many fingers you had?"

"Do you?" Rei said. "You were half awake when we were playing this. We never finished because you were delusional and you fell asleep."

"Well, Rei-chan, I happen to have the memory of a gopher."

"I don't think you have your animals right."

"You had five fingers, me and Makoto had two, and Haru had one. Everyone put your fingers up," Nagisa instructed, taking Rei's wrist and raising his hand for him.

Makoto slapped the back of Haru's hand when he tried to raise his middle finger again. Nagisa bounced his gaze around the circle to make sure they were all set, and smiled, wiggling his shoulders and straightening his back readily. His eyes rested on Haru, sparkling with joy, and his smiled widened.

"Haru-chan only has one finger left, so if he gets out, then Rei-chan, we'll say you won. I believe it was my turn, no?"

No one disagreed, so he cleared his throat.

"Never have I ever kissed anyone."

His eyes were incessant, watching Haru carefully, nearly levitating out of his seated position because he already knew. Haru, this whole time, met his gaze calmly, and now silently closed his fist and dropped his hand into his lap. Nagisa beamed, switching his gaze immediately to Makoto, who was having a harder time of it. His skin had already changed colors.

"Why that?" he moaned, unaware that Haru had already given them away.

"Because I've never done it," Nagisa said.

"B-But what happened to petting tigers?"

"Petting tigers?"

"I told you you were delusional," Rei said.

"Mako-chan," Nagisa insisted strictly.

Makoto flinched, eyes wide and mortified. "What?" he whined.

"Never have I ever kissed anyone."

"Nagisa …" Makoto moaned like a stubborn toddler and dropped his face into his palm, the back of his neck bright red.

Haru rolled his eyes and elbowed him. "Makoto."

The lamenting brunet heaved a giant sigh and put a finger down.

Nagisa leapt to his feet. "Ha! I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

He took off across the rooftop, leaping and whooping, his voice probably echoing out across the entirety of the school grounds. Rei lifted a hand to his mouth, whether to hide a smile or his shock, Haru couldn't tell, but he was blushing too.

"Makoto-senpai," he said behind his fingers, his voice trembling.

Makoto lifted a hand to silence him, face still buried. He shook his head, so Rei turned his eyes to Haru instead.

"Haruka-senpai?"

Haru met Rei's gaze, read the silent question, and dipped his head in a small nod.

Rei giggled a youthful, unfiltered giggle that Haru had never heard come out of him before. His eyes teared up and he took his glasses off to wipe them. He tried to calm himself, but that only seemed to make it worse. His shoulders shook.

"Why are you laughing?" Makoto whined, finally lifting his head.

Rei gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry," he squeaked. "I … don't know. It's just … so beautiful."

"So you laugh?"

This, again, just made it worse. Nagisa was still dancing around in the background, singing about how he "knew it" underneath the trills of Rei's laughter.

"You guys don't have to make such a big deal of it," Makoto said frailly, neither one of them were listening though.

Haru gave him a look and Makoto dropped his shoulder when he caught it.

"I am not embarrassed," he insisted.

"Then why are you blushing so hard?"

"Haruka … Don't make me drown you in the pool."

Haru pursed his lips. "I think I like it when you threaten me."

Makoto swatted at his shoulder. "Stop it," he hissed. Somehow the blush got deeper. "This is not the place."

Nagisa finally ran back to where they were sitting and threw one of his shoes at Haru. It landed in his lap.

"You were supposed to call me, Haru-chan," he chided breathlessly, hands on his hips.

Haru kept a straight face. "I was busy."

Makoto hit him again. Rei was so weak with laughter that he now rolled over on his side, holding his stomach. Nagisa tossed his curls back.

"When did it happen?"

"After you left my house," Haru answered unashamed.

"Was it before or after your conversation?"

"During."

"Have you two talked about this?" Makoto exclaimed.

"Yes," they answered in unison.

Makoto groaned and looked away from them. Nagisa was back to beaming like the sun. It was almost too vivid to look at directly, so Haru understood why Makoto was having trouble meeting his smile. He plopped back down, holding his feet, shoulders leaning eagerly in Haru's direction.

"Was it everything you imagined?"

"Better," Haru answered honestly.

Makoto popped Haru on the leg this time, still with his face turned away. Nagisa squealed with giddiness, fingers curled underneath his chin like a middle school girl.

"So you're official now, right?"

Haru turned his eyes to his partner and poked his shoulder. "Hey, are we official?"

Makoto's shoulders sank with a sigh. Haru knew he was embarrassed, no matter how much he denied it, but he was loving this in all honesty. He liked that Makoto blushed because of him and got all flustered and nervous. It was proof that all of the deep down feelings he'd been harboring had now successfully made it all the way up to the surface of his being where Haru could reach them. And he wanted to reach them. For the rest of his life, he wanted to reach them.

"You're so cruel," Makoto said, his voice thin.

"You said you weren't embarrassed," Haru said coolly. "Stop acting like it."

Nagisa giggled. His hand reflexively reached down to fluff up Rei's hair. The bespectacled teen was now just laying on the pavement, soaking in the conversation.

"I'm happy it finally happened," Nagisa said with a satisfied sigh. "Though, you know, there are a number of girls that have hinted about having a crush on Mako-chan. I'm sure they're not going to be to happy to know they've lost their chances."

"That's too bad," Haru sniffed indignantly, thinking about the girl in their class who had clearly been disappointed to find that they were together. He slipped a possessive arm around Makoto's waist. "He's mine now."

Nagisa squealed again. Rei let out another giggle.

Makoto finally looked back. Haru was already prepared to meet his gaze. The blush wasn't as harsh anymore, but instead had dimmed down to a soft rosiness, something that was full of tenderness and gratefully accepted Haru's stuffy pride for keeping Makoto to himself. Makoto's lips lifted into a gentle smile. Haru leaned in and kissed them.

Rei and Nagisa exploded.


End file.
